


Goody Two Shoes

by Sonny



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Challenge Response, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-27
Updated: 2004-05-27
Packaged: 2017-10-13 17:06:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are going to sell calendars of hot Liberty Ave. guys/gals for charity. Brian refuses because he could care less about gay charities. Ben is in it for two reasons, one is because he believes in the cause and the other is to try and get Michael's attention; they've broken up over something. Michael ends up being in it also, you decide how this happens. He's embarrassed though because he doesn't think he belongs there, he's not hot enough, so he keeps it quiet. What is the reaction on Liberty Avenue? How about Brian's?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A freshly showered, disheveled and half-undressed Brian Kinney stood in his barely buttoned jeans, contemplating the appearance of his king-sized bed.

Something just wasn't... right...

Shit! The sheets had to go! They just weren't perfect, to his liking.

Fuck it! He wished he had enough time to buy a whole new bedroom set.

Brian heard the familiar slide of the loft door, knowing who had arrived without even looking. "What the fuck are you doing here?" He stripped off the unclean, offending linens, collecting them into his arms to take to the laundry later.

Justin pounded his sneakered feet up the two steps into the bedroom. "Don't worry. I'm just here to get the rest of my *crap* out of your way!"

"Bullshit! If you bothered to notice, your *crap* was waiting for you by the door." Brian's mahogany locks moved in the direction his head shook, toward the front door. "I packed it up for you. No need to prolong an unneeded stay." He let a sly grin slip out the side of his mouth.

"Brian..." Justin sighed out his frustrations. "Why do you have to act this way?"

"What way? This is how I am... was... and will always be. Seems to me you foolishly claimed to have *loved & adored* that about me... once upon a time." Brian turned to use a five-finger point shove to push Justin out of the bedroom. "If you don't mind, I've got plans. Make your last visit as short and sweet as possible." He walked over to open a drawer, pulling out new sheets.

The package was still wrapped in plastic. A Christmas gift from Lindsay, almost three years ago.

Better sheets. The right ones. For the right moment. The right... person.

Justin remained standing in the space of the living room, awestruck to witness Brian Kinney actually making his own bed. He almost thought it was an ancient myth. Like wondering if the refrigerator light truly stayed on/off once the door was shut. "I can't believe this. You're sounding like you're really hurt."

"News Flash, Sunshine... I am." Brian mumbled loud enough to annoy Justin. He shook each pillow into the prospective case, throwing them every which way at the head of the bed. "What are you doing? Just standing around? Bothering me? Isn't your *girlfriend* waiting downstairs in the getaway car for you?"

Justin sniffed out a snicker. "Man! You are really, and truly, pissed at me!! I thought you'd be ecstatic to see me gone."

Brian padded on his bare feet out of the bedroom. "No, I'm just anxious to finally get my fuckin' life back on track." He made his way over to the pile of Justin's belongings stacked near the door. "If you're stallin' because this shit's too heavy for you, I'll be glad to help. I kind of... need you gone, in the next ten minutes. Your presence will hinder me... and my plans." He couldn't help the light airy sound to his voice that escaped at the prospect he was about ready to venture into.

"Who?!"

"None of your business, Young Mr. Taylor." Brian hefted one bag over his shoulder and a box in his arms.

Justin glowered over the state of Brian's undress. "You're not really dressed for the elements, Brian."

"What? You think I'm helping you carry this shit all the way downstairs? Fuck that! I'm simply getting your ass closer to the elevator. I think I've helped you out for too long already. I *might* be nice and press the *down* button, if you act kinder and say `Please' and `Thank you'."

"Don't bother! If it's that much of an inconvenience!" Justin attempted to sound tough, when all he wanted to do was sob, uncontrollably. As much as he dreamed his fantasy life to become real, Brian had never been truly *his*. It was never a simple fact that sat well in his mind. It should have been minuscule in the grand scheme of his life, and future, but sadly it had ballooned into a sick obsession. He picked up the rest of his belongings, trekking off toward the elevator.

Brian couldn't help snickering as he trailed behind the blond young man. "God! Michael was right! I guess I never stopped fuckin' you long enough to see how much of an annoying little snot you could be."

Justin swiveled on Brian in anger. "You talked about me?! With Michael!?!"

Brian stepped back from the frustrations blowing toward him. "Simmer down, Lil' One. I was just teasing. I came up with that realization on my own. No one had to hold my hand through the process."

"Why? Why would you do a cruel thing like that?"

"Because I get a thrill from seeing people squirm. Especially ones that..." Brian was about to say *hurt me*, but that would open a vulnerableness that he was never comfortable showing Justin. He set everything on the floor, near the elevator door. He wasn't even going to touch the button that was right next to him. "And if you can't take it, Junior, don't dish it out."

"You do know that Michael went with Ben to that teacher's conference in Austin?" Justin reached over to push the *down* button on the wall box.

Brian was leaning against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "Now, where would you hear a silly rumor like that?"

"Michael postponed the next issue of Rage. Ben came into the Diner today to say goodbye. He's takin' a flight out of Philly in two days. I don't have to be a rocket scientist to put two-n-two together."

The elevator began to rise up to the floor.

"Oh." Brian pinched his lips together, mischievously.

Actually Justin had it all wrong. Some facts were true, but not the story he was conjuring up.

Michael and Ben had broken up a few weeks ago. It all happened very quietly, unsuspecting. Michael had only been doing what Brian asked of him. Distancing himself from Justin in order for Brian to handle a mutually agreed split. Using the word *break-up* would constitute some kind of committed relationship.

Brian couldn't go out like that. Being pussy-whipped was not one of his favorite characteristics.

"For whatever reason... whatever it's worth to you..." Justin could barely look at Brian as he watched the elevator rise up to the floor. "... I'm sorry..." He cleared his throat as the unit stopped, shaking slightly on arrival.

Brian huffed out a breath, rolling his eyes. "And why would you think it's necessary... now... to apologize to a heartless, cowardly faggot like me?"

Justin reached down to lift up the outer gate. "Brian... those words... I didn't mean... I was only..."

"Venting to your best friend? Trying NOT to allow me to overhear on a private conversation?" Brian slid the second, inner, gate open to place what he'd carried out of the loft, in the elevator. "Please..." He sniffed out a laugh. "... spare me the court side seats to your crucifixion."

Justin began to throw his things into the elevator in complete exasperation. "Would you let me get one word in edgewise?! Without the sarcasm? I don't want things to end like this between us."

"What *us*, Sunshine? According to the little diatribe I heard the other day... there's never been an *us* to speak of. Hell... even to show this much remorse over. Get over it... I have."

Justin had already climbed onto the floor of the elevator, beginning to pull the gates in place. "I feel sorry for you, Brian."

Brian bit his lip, raising his eyebrow in curiosity. "Oh, please... tell me why..."

Looking at Brian through the mesh metal, Justin gripped the surface with his fingers. He nearly put his face up to the gates. "You'll never be happy. Treating people this way."

Brian rubbed his chin with his hand, trying to mull this epiphany over in his head. A stubble was already growing despite having shaved early this morning. "Wow! Dude, that's fuckin' amazing!! You got me in a nutshell again. How do you cope with this massive intelligence and insight into the human psyche? What college did you graduate from, again?" He cupped a hand around his ear to listen closely.

"Having a boyfriend I can talk to helps!" Justin spat through the gates.

"Brian!" Michael's voice echoed up the stairwell. The pattering of his feet could be heard making their way up the steps.

Justin chose that moment to look to the area where he'd be able to see Michael. "So... it's like that, is it?"

"Why, Professor Taylor..." Brian put a finger to the tip of his chin. "Whatever could you mean?"

Justin chose that moment to press the *down* button. "While the cat is away the mice will play."

Brian opened his mouth in mock shock. "Uh-oh... did you just call Benjamin a *pussy*?!"

"Fuck. You, Kinney." As the elevator descended, Justin began to pace the cramped shell of the area, periodically looking up at Michael in Brian's arms.

Brian simply put out a hand to wave Justin on his way to his brand *spanking* new life.

"Brian!" Out of breath, Michael charged up the last few steps and nearly flung himself into Brian's willing arms. "Come on!" He tugged on Brian's forearm, grabbing the wrist then slipping into the hand, snatching the long fingers.

That's when Brian hitched his own fingers with Michael's, almost pulling the appendages out of both their sockets. Brian had been momentarily stunted, and befuddled, by the intense cold, and warmth, wafting off of his best friend's hyperactive frame.

Brian had to laugh at Michael's show of unfettered enthusiasm. "What the fuck has you so excited? Can't be because of another night at Babylon?" He placed an extended, lingering kiss to the area on Michael's neck, somewhere close to his nape. Brian, also, took a moment to inhale Michael's soothing, recognizable scent. It was a subtle, spicy musk cologne that was beginning to become Brian's favorite smell on him.

Michael shut his weary, pain filled eyes to the calming sensations those lips always made him feel. His heart picked up speed when Brian hovered close to his body, like seeking warmth. "I... uh, saw this cool car outside." He sent a thumb over his shoulder. "Kinda reminded me of the BatMobile. Looks a helluva lot more expensive than the `Vette." Michael soon realized what he'd come into the tail end of. He could hear the elevator descending. And if he truly paused, to contemplate, he could faintly detect low timbered mumblings, interjected with sniffles of controlled sobs. "Is everything alright?" His hand came up to cup Brian's cheek, and the long stretch of jaw line, his palm palpitating the rough stubble.

All Michael really cared about was standing right in front of him, he could have cared less what had gone on before he arrived. He was more concerned with the look that passed over Brian's face. The look that generally told Michael that someone had fucked with Brian's emotions.

Brian reached up to grip the tender hand, turning his face to place a quick peck to the skin. "I'm always better when you're around, Michael."

Michael caught his breath at the sound of authenticity to Brian's tone. "Don't be charming, like that."

"Come on." Brian grabbed for Michael's hand, tugging him along behind him, his bare feet padding across the flooring. "Talk to me about your day, while I get dressed." He swung Michael inside, shutting the loft door.

Michael took off his jacket, throwing the material over Brian's computer chair. "Crap day, as usual. I don't think I'd hold your interest much with my hour-by-hour, tedious babble." His eyes followed a half-naked Brian into the bedroom. He slowly walked the same steps, stopping at the stairs.

"I like hearing about your day, Michael. Your voice is very..."

"Droll?"

"No..." Brian laughed as he took down a shirt from the hanger. Placing one arm in at a time, he brought the two open ends together to begin buttoning them as one. "... actually, it's quite therapeutic. Your voice has this way of changing inflection with each emotion and it..." He had taken a seat on the mattress to find Michael staring at him in complete puzzlement. "What?" He put hand to his chest. "Do I look okay?" He stared down at his ensemble.

Michael chuckled and climbed the two steps to walk to the small dresser in the bedroom. He pulled out a pair of matching dark-colored socks to throw in Brian's direction. The pair landed at Brian's side on the mattress. "You know you always look beautiful... fuckin' drop-dead gorgeous. You don't need me to reassure you of that. Just look in the fuckin' mirror." He poked his head inside Brian's closet, glancing over the array of shoes to choose from. He picked out a pair that would go with Brian's outfit.

Brian was about to mention to Michael which shoes to bring over. As he turned his torso to the right, he noticed Michael walking over with the same exact pair in his hands. He set them on the bed for Brian to put on. Brian took a moment to ponder this eerie calm settling over him.

Michael wandered back over to Brian's closet. He could definitely see that most of Justin's clothing was gone. He flipped through a few hangers as he perused the fine, expensive clothing. He stopped on one item. "I always liked this shirt, Brian. Why don't you wear it anymore?"

"Too small, Mikey. Might fit perfectly on you." As Brian slipped his foot inside the final shoe, he stood. "In fact..." He stepped over to another dresser, pulling open a few drawers. He found what he needed and made his way over to Michael, who was putting the shirt up to his chest, checking himself in the tall mirror. "Check this out."

Standing behind Michael, Brian unfolded the pair of pants. His thumbs caught on the waist, spreading the material open to place them against Michael's body from his awkward position.

Michael looked at the outfit, on his body, in the mirror. The *look* was never clothes he'd pick out for himself, but he had to think that it certainly brought something new and interesting out of him. "I can't."

"Why not?" Brian hung his arms over Michael's frame, pulling him flush with his chest. "I'm not wearing them anymore. They don't fit. I'm too cheap and selfish to give them to charity. And they were never something Justin liked." He rested his chin on Michael's shoulder.

Their eyes met in the mirror. A soft challenge was being issued.

"I shouldn't."

"But you will."

Michael quietly stomped his foot. "Why do you say it like that?"

"Because it's true."

"It might be, but I'm comfortable in what I'm wearing now." Michael had to catch the pants as Brian dropped them from his grip.

Brian swiveled Michael to face him. "You'd look hot in nothing but a towel, Michael. But there's something about you, when you dress in clothes like these. You become...."

"Someone I'm not, from day to day. Someone who's sexy... and desirable. Someone's who's..."

Brian cupped the nape of Michael's neck, forcing them to stand nose-to-nose. "... completely... and utterly... fuckable..." He pushed his face close, tempting Michael's lips to open for him.

Michael was the one who ended the tease. "Well, Christ! I'll be right back then." He traipsed off with a snicker to his tone.

Brian stood, alone, in the center of his bedroom, not believing what just happened. His bed slightly unmade. His dick hard as a rock. His heart pacing a mile a minute. His life in shambles. His emotions in a jumble.

Brian couldn't help the smile from slipping out. And his best friend was to blame for it all.

God Damn him!!

Brian could barely contain his excited anticipation on what might happen next, if his plan worked out as well as he would like it to.

Hopefully, Michael was on the same page.

From what occurred two minute ago, Brian was assured Michael was damn close...

**************************************************************

Wide, smoldering chocolate brown eyes glared into hazy hazel eyes. The arms once looped, hands hanging down, around one man's neck and shoulders, fell.

"He said what?!"

Lost in the beat of the music, the rush of the special herbal blend he'd inhaled and the electric heat of his most favorite companion, Brian shook his head. "Never mind. Forget I said..."

"NO!" Michael completely stopped dancing, not quite as high as Brian was. He grabbed for Brian's jaw, forcing their eyes to meet. "No way! Don't you dare let me hang! Repeat what you just said!"

Brian tried to avert his eyes, dart his head outward, away from Michael's intense gaze. He caught sight of something from the side. Or should he say *someone*?

For hours, Brian had been dancing, gyrating and thrusting, with Michael. He'd felt a pair of fine eyes follow them. "Forgive me?" He already had his plan in motion.

Michael furrowed his brow. He squinted his eyes to what had changed Brian's fortitude. "For...?" He was about to turn, trail the same path Brian's eye line was staring toward.

Brian swayed Michael's touch from his jaw, cupping the precious face in his palms. He forcibly drew Michael's front flush with his perspiring, heaving chest. There was a subtle harshness beneath the pressure of lips upon lips, but soon the instant pain turned into constant pleasure.

Michael opened his mouth to allow Brian's tongue entrance, playing around inside. Enraptured by the sensations, Michael pressed forward, out of habit. He was caught unawares of Brian's quick need to release his body. He faltered, teetering closer. "What... was THAT for?" He knew Brian couldn't have kissed him, like that, without some motivation.

Rarely did Brian speak with a straight answer. He tended to head more for the dramatic effect. He swung Michael around swiftly, facing the opposite direction. He was giving Michael his own view to discover what he'd already found.

Michael's ease and composure went from sixty to zero in less than a minute. "Fuck!" He tried to remove his gaze, but soon was trapped in the sudden look from *another's* eyes. "I guess now I know where he went to when he fed me his web of lies." The drugs, music and sorrow were twisting Michael's head around. He slapped a hand over his eyes. "Damn! Wouldn't you know he still looks fuckin' hot! Dare I say it... happy?"

"You wanna leave?" Brian had eyes only for Michael. He was tired of hearing the condemnation and praise laden on Ben Bruckner in the same sentences.

"Hell No!" Michael furrowed his brow, shook his head to clear his mind as much as he could in the confines of Babylon's dance floor. His arms came back up to encircle Brian's neck, then innocently dangled there. He leaned his forehead against the slope of Brian's jaw. "Sorry. Not angry at you."

"Better not be!" Brian wasn't sure what to feel. He was ecstatic for this bonus time to spend with Michael, like the old days. But at the expense of Michael's broken heart, with the recent resurgence of his own growing attraction to his best friend, Brian wasn't assured that any of what was happening was real. His arms easily found their resting position around Michael's waist, playing along the exposed flesh caused by his shirt lifting. He had to grab the bull by the horns, or in this instance the Professor by his Ticonderoga #2s. Make Michael forget Ben ever existed. Turn the kind, sweet professor into a big old meanie. "I'm sure it was only a knee-jerk response, but Benji doesn't think that whole taking-off-your-clothes-for-charity thing is really your style. Um... that it would take more to make you undress in a photograph for public consumption." He shrugged, not sure he should mention his next comment at all. "I told him about that whole Internet dating thing you went through. That we'd actually come up with a decent pictorial for the gay singles website. I don't know what he was trying to say about you, but he said people who *answer* things like that are *desperate* and *looking for sex*, not in any way close to relationship material."

Ben was right. Didn't ease the hurt a jab like that was to Michael's ego. "Oh yeah?! What do you think?"

Brian's nimble fingertips reached down to caress the upper curves of Michael's backside, pulling their groins closer. "I'm comfortable in my body enough to not think about much else then satisfying it's cravings. When they asked me to pose, for the calendar, I declined. Not because I wouldn't do it for charity, but I simply can't trust someone's motives with a calendar of this nature. Someone's gonna get shafted, and I don't bow to anyone THAT gracefully. If folks wanna see me in my birthday suit, there's gotta be more in it for me." He shrugged hoping his explanation was doing the trick. "I don't undress for just... anyone..." He jabbed his face to attack Michael's neck, licking a line up to his ear, getting a heady rush from the salt-tinged skin.

Michael chuckled, shaking his head in wonderment. "This could win you some new fan members. More phone numbers... notches in your headboard... if you had one."

Brian wasn't playing into his hand, this time. He continued to stare, devouring every square inch of Michael's features.

Michael removed his arms, from Brian's neck, he traced them down the long torso, coming up to settle under the armpits. He gently rubbed Brian's flanks, sending his fingers down to meet at the back of his trim waist, where the belt looped into the jeans, leaving a gap in between the lower spine and the waist line. The untucked, button-down sleeveless shirt gave Michael the opportunity to caress Brian's naked skin, sweat having collected in a small pool at the base of the  
spine.

Michael soothed the soft, pliant muscles underneath, massaging away any aches. Brian groaned in earnest, the clarity from the drug haze was deafening. He let his head fall to Michael's shoulder. "You never answered my question, Brian." He placed his moistened lips just at the slope of Brian's ear, not realizing the chaos he was causing inside of his best friend. He sent his tongue out to innocently lap at the dangling lobe.

"What if... I don' wanna?" Brian wasn't sure Michael was exactly certain of what he was doing. That the place, on the dip of his spine, was one of his prime erogenous zones. He pushed his nose into Michael's cheek, feeling his cock grow harder, trying to break free of the button-fly. "I've always known you were... H-O-T. I tell you all the time, Mikey."

"The sentiment is appreciated, but... that is such... crap!!" Michael continued to sway with Brian.

"It's not crap!! What will it take for you to believe me?" Brian met their foreheads, one-on-one.

"I don't know." Michael sighed, completely content in remaining right where he was, but it seemed like Brian was getting other ideas.

"What exactly do I have to...?" Brian finally was able to lift his head, eyes trained ahead, behind Michael. The vision registered in his head, his mind formulating another plan of action. "Mikey, I'll take credit for almost half of the voyeuristic eyes trailing us. The other half... belongs to you." As Michael slowly shook his head in disbelief, Brian puffed out his chest. Extreme measures needed to be taken. He didn't mind moments like these when he could showcase his best friend's gorgeous attributes, making every mouth drool in their wake. "You want proof?" The initial asking point was moot, Brian was already setting the disaster in motion.

Michael smirked through his sorrow, holding onto Brian's hips, his thumbs caught on the belt loops. "Not really... but I know what a stickler you are for *hard* evidence."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, Mikey." Brian dipped his left knee in between Michael's compact thighs, nearly willing to carry him through the dance moves. His hand grabbed for Michael's right wrist, almost taking the appendage and shoving it down the front of his jeans. Brian felt the cool impact of warmth against his hot member, sans underwear. He nearly sent himself into orbit, forgetting how long he'd been growing hard simply by Michael's nearness. He ducked his head, resting his mouth near Michael's ear, talking directly into the canal. "Follow my lead. Keep dancing until I tell you to 'stop'." He didn't expect Michael to encircle his fingers around what he discovered underneath the thick jean material. Nor had he expected his dick to enlarge by the adoring attention.

As the heady, monotonous beat rumbled through Babylon's speaker system, Brian prowled toward Michael, giving him no other recourse but to continue to back up. In a matter of mere seconds, they were sure to bump into another couple.

Or one hulking, mountainous form of pure manliness.

A tall, dark-haired, massively muscular Greek God, naked to the waist, had been intently pursuing his own caught prey. He was jolted from behind. He turned around to growl obscenities. His boiling frustrations churning from a long, difficult day at work. His strong temperament was met with the most charming of sincere smiles. He was immediately disarmed by the crinkling, mesmerizing, dark chocolate eyes and flushed face.

A gentle hand came out to soothe the tanned, leathery surface of the gigantic bare forearm and biceps.

Michael had been preoccupied with his hand in Brian's pants to notice who he bumped into. "Sorry." His busy hand became dislodged. He dipped his head to speak into the stranger's ear. "Sometimes I forget how crowded this place can get." He drew back, hoping his apology would be accepted. He wanted to continue dancing with his most favorite partner, Brian.

The Greek God had other ideas. His bulky right arm curved about Michael's trim waist, cupping the supple backside. As he pulled the smaller man to his groin, he ducked his coal black head to take some luscious nips at the exposed pale neck. "Shame. I can think of a less crowded area where we can enjoy some fun."

Michael was only giggling from his *high* and from the tickling sensations on his skin from the moist tongue. He didn't find the action remotely pleasurable.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Whoa there!" Brian decided that it was time to put a stop to the charade. He attempted to squeeze his body in between Michael and the Greek God. The plan had worked all too well. "Appreciate the offer. Really, but WE... have a previous engagement."

"WE do?!?" Michael brow lifted in shock.

"This your boyfriend?" The Greek God asked in defense of Michael's need to remain latched to his side, not moving one inch toward Brian.

"Yes! Now... will you get your meaty paws of him, Sasquatch!" Brian didn't care what he had to do, or say, to get Michael back in his clutches. He noticed Michael's arm still gripping the stranger's waist. He tried to karate-chop the bond.

"Ow-ach!" Michael screech as he rubbed at his sensitive forearm. "Nah, Mr. Satchy... he's just my *stalker*!!" He teased as he began to feel the heady rush from the mini-tug-of-war for his delectable body.

The Greek God took the situation in stride. He chuckled lightly, for a man of his size and stature, nodding his head in understanding for Michael. "Lucky you, beautiful." His silver eyes began to stare down Brian, realizing a prominent possessive streak. "I'd be happy to enjoy both your companies..."

Brian patted the beefy shoulder, not liking the look of how small his hand appeared on the muscles. Visions of his neck being snapped by those hands entered his mind. "Thanks, but... no thanks. Sweet of you to think of BOTH of us."

The Greek God shrugged his shoulder, already seeking out a new, unattached prospect. "Your loss."

"I very much doubt that." Brian said under his breath as he intently trapped Michael's eyes into his own. As if Michael had suddenly become the ONE THING, the only temptation, he craved more than anything.

Michael noticed the hungry predator look overcome Brian. He wasn't assured that it was for him alone. "Sorry!" He still attempted to apologize to the Greek God. It was only to make sure everything was okay. That they wouldn't be killed down some dark, dank alley later on. "No reflection on you, sir!" Michael didn't like the way he was being dragged off the dance floor, toward the bar. "Brian! Come on. He called me *beautiful*. At least..." He squinted up at Brian's usual ignorance to what he was saying. "That... was fuckin' rude!"

 **~~TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

"You can spank me later, Daddy!" Brian had already motioned to the bartender for a drink. "I proved my point, didn't I?" He reached for the short glass, downing the amber liquid in one gulp. He didn't seem very ecstatic with the results of his spur-of-the-moment poll. 

Michael put a hand out to soothe Brian's bare biceps and smooth down the forearm. "Brian, shit! It's one man's fuckin' opinion. Besides, look at my track record with relationships. David? Ben? Need I say more?" He grew quiet, shaking his head out of his self-induced misery. "Maybe I should become more like you. Perpetual one night stands. The revolving bedroom door syndrome. Is it contagious?" He raised an eyebrow in question, not expecting a true answer. "There must be something I lack."

"Shut up, Michael." Brian tried to throw off Michael's addictive touch. The delicate hand kept coming back, it's potency all the more tender and gentle.

"I'm serious, Brian." Michael leaned in to state loudly in Brian's ear drum.

"And so... am I!!" Brian barked down into Michael's frowning features. "Christ! I tell you the same things, practically every day, but you never believe me. I get one Neanderthal tramp to check you out and you'd fuckin' take his word over mine?!" He shook his head in confusion, not sure from where the rush to his head was coming from. Drugs? Alcohol? Babylon? Or... simply Michael? "Anyway, you're not built for anonymous sex. You deserve better."

Michael leaned his cheek on Brian's shoulder, closing in on Brian's heated body. "Does that mean you deserve less?"

Brian couldn't help but let a smirk out as he felt the casual tickle of Michael's fingers under the waist line of his pants. "Askin' the wrong person, Mikey." He then stayed way too silent, grew maudlin, staring down at the bar counter.

Michael pressed his lips against Brian's naked, flexing biceps. He kissed the warm, sweaty flesh a few times in a row, leaning his flushed cheek on the subtle muscles. "Let's get out of here. I think I feel a headache coming on."

"Don't, Michael." Brian didn't budge when Michael wrapped an arm about his waist to move.

"Don't what?" Michael groaned at being forced to enjoy Babylon when he wasn't feeling well.

Brian finally turned away from the bar, facing Michael. He rested his wrists on Michael's shoulders, his fingers grappling to caress the shaved hairline, where a bit of perspiration had formed. "Don't ever make excuses, letting HIM chase you out."

Michael rolled his eyes, his arm falling off Brian's waist. "HE's not doing a damn thing to me. Except annoying the shit outta me by his god-awful attempts to make me jealous. Dancing that way with all those men on the floor. Half-dressed like some tramped out twink."

Brian pushed Michael away. "So... you were paying attention."

Michael faced the bar, hanging over the counter. He wished there weren't mirrors that reflected the dance floor behind the bar. His eyes kept trying to locate that familiar sculpted torso and dark blond matted head of hair. "He's still gorgeous, Brian. That body will always look incredible."

Brian leaned over to spit out. "Even from this distance?"

Michael arched away from Brian's meanness. "Fuck you!"

"Give me a few more hours. I've only had one hard drink. You're about the only great looking piece of ass here I haven't fucked." Brian motioned for another short glass to be filled for him.

"Wow! Something to look forward to! Be still my heart!" Michael yanked a bit on the bar railing as he pulled himself toward the counter and nearly crashed his head to the surface. "I should never have listened to you and come out tonight."

"But you're having such fun, Mikey! I refuse to go down the drain by myself."

Michael completely lost Brian's intention to curb his every sentence with some hurtful jab. "I woke up with this headache." He turned his cheek to lay on the counter.

"Mikey, get up. You don't know who, or what's, been on this counter." Brian attempted to lift Michael up by one shoulder.

"You know I've been trying to get rid of this thing... like all day..." Michael turned his body into complete mush, no muscles whatsoever. He slumped his body into Brian's.

"Why didn't you say something earlier? We could have chilled at your apartment. Or the loft. Got high, pigged out on all the junk food we wanted and stayed up past our bed times."

"You seemed bored already. In some need of cheering up. I couldn't see you getting anything out of a night watching me sleep. Babylon was calling you, like always."

"Sweet sentiment, Mikey, but I don't need you to come hold my hand. I would have survived on my own."

"Yeah." Michael snickered, eyeballing the third helping of Brian's drink being handed to him. "Right. Not fuckin' likely!!" As Brian grabbed for the two beers they'd ordered, Michael snatched the short glass, downing the burning liquid in two seconds flat. "FUCK!!" Throwing back his head hadn't been a great idea, the way his head ached.

Brian stood back, staring in wide-eyed wonderment. "Feel better? Sure that goes nicely with your, supposed, headache."

"Only numbing the pain. The Kinney Way."

"Deb would be so proud. Where's a fuckin' camera when you need one?"

Michael chuckled at Brian's mention of his mother. "Hell, if I can't please her by being ME... why the fuck not?"

"Nice attitude."

"I learned from the best." Michael growled as the harsh liquor continued to roll through his body, sending weird chills down his spine. He let go of the bar railing, leaning forward. He took the heels of his palms to rub at his watering eyes. "Ignore me. It's the *pain* talking."

"Which one? Heartache or headache?"

Michael giggled at the easy hilarity and irony. "Good one." As he reached out to take the bottle neck of one beer, he was jostled from behind, as was Brian.

They swiveled as one unit to see the crowds of men filling up the dance floor. The number of men pouring out into the other areas around the bars. Up above, the men shuffled over to the balcony railing to look down toward the stage.

Michael moved to situate his backside to Brian's front, allowing plenty of room for strangers' bodies not to touch them. "Wonder what's going on?" He tapped one shoulder of a guy in front of them. "Excuse me..."

The guy tried to move, but could hardly make room. "Oh... I'm sorry." He thought Michael was trying to pass by.

"No. I'm fine." Michael felt the possessive arm of Brian's, encircle his waist. He reached down to pat the bare forearm. "I was just wondering what's happening."

The guy shrugged. "Some charity deal. Dance competition or something."

"Really? What for?" Michael didn't quite understand.

Nothing had been advertised. There were no annual Babylon events scheduled, yet, on their outside marque.

"I heard something about this calendar of Liberty Avenue." The guy mentioned as his eyes trained to the emptying lit stage, where dancers usually stood.

Michael tried to look over his shoulder at Brian. "Think it's the same one who contacted you?"

The guy's eyes widened. "They requested YOU?" The warm green eyes took in Brian's physique in strange alignment with Michael's. He practically licked his lips at the dirty thoughts in his mind. "Oh, man. How lucky is that?"

Michael caught the sudden pursuit of Brian, that he should be used to, but tonight he was a tad bit more possessive of. He wished he was massively built enough to hide Brian from beholden eyes of worship. Mine!!

Brian rested his chin on Michael's shoulder. He reached back to slurp on his beer, his other arm remaining around Michael's trim waist. His hand plastered to the flat abdominal wall, petting the sculpted muscles without a mischievous thought behind the motion. "Not very. I declined their offer." He pointed to a man in a suit and tie jumping on stage, normally full of dancing gay boys. "Shush, Mikey. Pay attention."

"What's Ben doing up there?" Michael was quieted again, but this time by Brian's hand clamping over his mouth.

The suited man held down a hand for Ben to climb up on stage. The comparison of the two of them was comical. One fully clothed versus one barely clad in anything remotely resembling clothing.

"Gentlemen..." The gasps heard from some areas made the surprise emcee make an additional re-address. "... and some of you lovely ladies." The select bunch of drag queens hooted-n-hollered in unison. "You might have heard this itty-bitty rumor of the plans for a calendar of the Men of Liberty Avenue..."

The crowd of Liberty Avenue men went wild.

Suit and Tie Man used his hands to quiet the noise to a dull roar. "Good. Then we might get somewhere tonight."

From behind the stage curtain, someone hand tossed a microphone headset to Ben for Suit and Tie Man to use. This was so he didn't have to practically scream his throat dry.

Suit and Tie Man adjusted the ear phone and headset to fit his head. The mini-microphone swooped down across his mouth, right at his lips. There was a belt hook-up that allowed him to come through on every speaker in the place. "Good Evening. I'd like to thank all of you for allowing us to share your wonderful establishment."

Babylon's regulars and employees went crazy.

Suit and Tie Man made a slash across his neck for silence. "My name... is Simon. Simon Boswell. Some of you may recognize me from my smallish career... in films and some television work."

A murmur of "Oooos" and "Ahhhhs" echoed at random.

Simon bowed in mock acceptance. "And I thank you in advance for being willing to admit you were part of the few who saw them."

"Jerked off to them is more like it!" One voice yelled from the crowd as the laughter followed. A few cat calls and whistled signaled the *true* fans.

"Well, I grew up here, in The Pitts, right in the heart of Liberty Avenue... so I thought what a great idea to showcase what we have to offer to the whole world." Simon nodded his head toward his captive audience. "Every single penny goes to charity, folks. All the props and costumes for the shots are donated, as are the photographers and the crew. It's all for a good cause."

A groan settled over everyone standing around.

Ben leaned over to whisper in Simon's ear. They both nodded in agreement.

Simon cleared his throat, readjusting his suit pants. "Folks, I can guarantee that this money won't be filtered through one affiliate after another. The money will be collected, counted, then put into an account, at a reputable Pennsylvanian bank, so that the charity we pick is allowed to draw from said account any time it needs. I took this idea to a more so-called *well-known* company who began to take over. They wanted to kill my ideas about each photograph. How I wanted each month represented" A semblance of "Boos" began to churn. "In fact, they tried to take the *gay* OUT of Liberty Avenue. It became more about Pittsburgh *normalcy* than the freak show they claimed existed."

The crowds went ballistic. Simon and Ben tried to calm the men down.

"But we've regrouped... and we learned our lesson. We picked up our self-esteem, our pride and we told that company they could kiss our faggoty asses all the way to the bank. If they didn't want to be a part of something worthwhile, then we'd do it ourselves."

Babylon's regulars started to pick up their cheering, the clapping had begun.

"But we also issued them a challenge..."

Groans motored over the sea of overheated bodies.

"... if we surpassed our estimated *goal* donation, this company would match five hundred dollars to every TEN calendars we've sold. So... in essence, boys..." Simon's eyes over the crowd took in some of the more mature faces around him. "... men, WE market our Liberty Avenue Men up to 20,000 calendars... we can pull, easily, nearly one million dollars. More money for us, means more money for the charities. Who's with me?!"

Babylon became a madhouse of pandemonium. Everyone nearly rushed the stage in anticipation of how to sign up.

Brian and Michael simply turned back around to face the bartender. Their beers were right where they left them.

"You goin'?" Michael asked at random, downing some beer. His lips suckled the rim of the bottle neck.

Brian's eyes played a pace on that innocent sight. Michael had probably done it a thousand times while they'd been together, but right now... his head was envisioning those lips surrounding a much more pleasurable tip of his most favorite body part. He closed his eyes from the aches. Christ! "To cater to the mindless fantasy perversions of a group of non-goal oriented, loathsome gay men I'd rather see the ass end of..."

Michael quirked the corner of his mouth up. "I take that as a *N-O*!"

Brian dipped his head, sending the end of his nose directly into Michael's ear. "Besides, I was already asked, remember? I didn't buy into their bullshit the first time." He relaxed his forehead on Michael's soft hair. "YOU?"

"I don't..." Michael was about to decline, as well.

"Michael..." A voice from behind spoke through their conversation.

Michael swiveled, while Brian stayed still, head averted. "Ben, what are you...?"

Ben stood, thumbs hooked in the back pocket of his ripped jeans. His sweaty, muscular torso gleaming in the strobe, disco lights of Babylon.

Things had simmered down some. The small stage was surrounded by every beautiful, gorgeous piece of Liberty Avenue gay male flesh. They all wanted a piece of the action.

The DJ picked the music tracks back up. The Liberty Avenue Men were dancing in a familiar rhythm.

Michael could barely look directly into Ben's face. He wished he had those long ago childish fantasies of having powers of invisibility.

"You look... good." Ben smiled easily, glancing every so often toward Brian, who hadn't acknowledge his presence. Ben was used to this non-reaction of disinterest.

Michael rolled his eyes. Weeks following their break up and that's the only statement Ben could come up with? As a writer he was tolerable, in some instances. But in others... he really, and truly, sucked. "Thanks." He sent his hand over the delicate material covering his upper chest, down and around his mid sternum to where Brian's hand still remained. He laced his fingers with the long digits. "You'll have to give the compliment to Brian. He dressed me tonight." He took a quick swig of his beer. "I came right to the loft from work. Had nothing to wear. You know how that is."

Ben had to bite his lip from making a smart come back. Michael was only reacting to his baser emotions. There was nothing wrong with what he was doing. Ben just didn't know if he could stomach watching this scene, between Brian and Michael, play out. The image was always a tad more raunchier, sexually charged, than he knew reality could be. Michael in Brian's arms, in reality, looked... shockingly simple, yet downright the way the world ought to be, for both men.

"You don't say." Crossing his arms over his chest, Ben contemplated only Michael, for now. "I wanted you to know... I've known Simon, for years. Way before he had that infamous career in... uh, films. I`m helping Simon organize the calendar shoot, but I had to be talked into being a part of it, as well."

"Poor you." Brian mumbled under his breath into Michael's hair.

Michael elbowed him without no one knowing what happened. Brian simply doubled over into Michael's back. "Uh... I'm sorry. I know I'm not a road scholar, like some people, but why did you think I had to know this?" He gave Brian the *look*, over his shoulder, when he heard him snicker at his words.

"Give me a minute. I had this all planned out, ahead of time." Ben cleared his throat. "The Liberty Avenue Men we choose for the calendar will be decided by audition. It will be a sixteen month calendar. Since I'm one of the men, that leaves us with a fifteen head count."

Brian's brow crinkled. He was getting tired of Ben not getting to his fucking point, already. "Okay, I AM a fuckin' road scholar... and now you've even lost me."

"Simon's a huge fan of Rage."

Michael held Brian's hand to his chest, protectively. There were too many wandering eyes hovering. "Good for him. I'll autograph a copy, if he wants." He was about ready to turn back around, when Ben cleared his throat again.

"He wants you in, Michael."

"IN what?"

Brian bent to Michael's ear. "His calendar, Mikey."

"I know that, Brian. I was simply being flippant."

Ben had to look down at the floor. "I told Simon that I would talk to you."

"Try to convince me to turn his offer down... is what you really want to do."

"No!" Ben shook his head, hands on his hips. "I wanted to, before. But with everything that's happened. The difficulty behind getting this event in motion, we are basically putting our asses on the line. It's a do or die situation, but it's becoming worth the price. The early responses we're getting for this calendar... at a time when gays and lesbians are still in the media... well, this gravy train needs as much help as it can get."

"Even if it goes against everything you believe about me? Keep Mikey in his safe little box and no one, and nothing, will hurt him?" Michael had a hard time believing Ben could do a quick 180 on him like this, when Brian had just mentioned talking to Ben, at the gym, earlier this week.

"Michael, I never..." Ben put out a hand to stop Michael from putting his character traits down.

Michael released Brian to push his body to finally stand on his own. "Problem is, Ben, at some point *Mikey* won't exist anymore. He'll become a full time father, a trusting friend and confidant, a loving monogamous partner and, hopefully, one day he can have a marriage that can be recognized in the eyes of the law. Until then... Ben, *Mikey* will take that kind offer and gladly shove it up your pompous ass!" Grabbing Brian's hand, Michael exited the dance floor as fast as they could.

"Ooopps! Bye, Benji!" Brian snickered as he was dragged away, traipsing behind Michael. "Hey... Big Boy Mikey, can we slow down the marathon for a pace?!"

"Sorry." Michael mumbled as he tried to catch his breath.

Brian began to soothe his hands down Michael's biceps, rubbing the shirt. "Did I tell you how handsome you look tonight, Mikey."

"Stop flattering me! I'm not in the mood!"

"Mee-Ow! Pfft! Pfft!" Brian sent his fingers down Michael's sides in order to begin tickling him. "That was a neat little show you put on for my benefit. Think Ben bought it?"

Michael squinted his eyes. "You think I was lying?"

"About shoving the offer up his ass? Nope. But refusing the offer? Well... Mikey, your Mom is a fuckin' active PFLAG supporter and avid proud member. She marches in Gay Pride parades more than YOU do. *Charitable donation* is part of your vernacular. Your family crest if a fuckin' bleeding heart. It's who you are... you wouldn't be YOU if you didn't want to help someone in need."

"Brian, that's foolish talk. You help people, as well. You're more photogenic than I will ever be. Not to mention that you'd be fuckin' hot in nothing but a marble bag and dental floss." Michael had to let that image sit in his mind. It sent chills down his spine.

"Marble bag? Mikey, I'm crushed. Yeah, that's true, but, you forget, I don't care to save the village in lieu of saving the individuals." Brian placed his hands on Michael's shoulders, playing with the tufts of hair around his ears. "Especially the ones that mean more to me than some random fuck."

"Wow! Is that from the new line of B. Kinney Hallmark? I must pick up a copy."

"Touche, Novotny. Touche." Brian kissed the flushed cheek, turned Michael around and patted him on the perfectly round rump to head toward the coat check area. "Get our coats. I'll meet you outside."

"You won't be long?"

Brian stared Michael down as he backed up. "Nah... I'll make it quick. I think I've made you wait long enough." He watched Michael move to the coat check counter, receive both jackets, put on his and carried Brian's on his way out. He also was able to notice the way Michael kept massaging his forehead. The headache must still be bothering him, though he never made Brian feel like it was. He'd have to figure out a way to remedy that later tonight.

Brian wandered through the throngs of half-naked male flesh. Every once-n-awhile, he'd turn his head to stare down an admiring twink, but would suddenly grow spooked by thoughts of another *Justin* simply waiting in the wings. He spotted Simon not too far away.

Ben was standing nearby, talking with two over enthusiastic young men. He wasn't close enough to hear the whole conversation, that would take place between Brian and Simon, but he knew he could probably hear spurts of words.

Pretty soon, Simon became available. Brian approached with his arms crossed low over his stomach. "So... I hear you're a fan of Rage."

Simon let out a sly grin. "Okay, you got me. A *geek* in high school."

Brian held out a hand to shake cordially. "Me, too. I know the creator of Rage. My best friend, Michael."

Simon rolled his eyes in pleasure. "Lucky man. He's sexy. The kind of *sexy* that I want to show in my calendar. Not your every day, Brad Pitt/Tom Cruise gorgeous. Which is nice, don't get me wrong. But that kind of beauty can run away from you, if you're not careful. Michael's very subtle, yet natural. Like he isn't even aware of himself." He looked around the room, taking a step nearer to Brian, to gab in secret. "Have you ever... you know?" Simon tried to nudge Brian with his elbow.

"What?" Brian sheepishly smiled.

"Thought about... you two... together?"

Brian's mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out.

Simon nodded in complete understanding. "Never mind. I think I got my answer. Is there a reason why you needed to speak to me?"

"Ben thinks Michael's refusing the offer." Brian stared down Simon, determined to set things right.

"But, according to you, he's not." Simon crossed his arms over his chest. His suit tie became askew.

"See, it's nice that we know each other so well."

"What will Michael think once he knows?"

"Knows what?"

"That you're answering for him."

"Simon, Simon, Simon... don't you know, Michael already knows he wants to do this. It's just gonna take some long, drawn out discussions to make him *think* he came up with the answer all by his very lonesome."

Simon raised a curious eyebrow. "So you're an *enabler*."

"I'd like to call myself... a motivator."

"Yeah... that does sound much nicer." Simon had to chuckle lightly as he pulled out a business card to hand over to Brian. "When he finally decides to vocalize his acceptance, these are the numbers I can be reached at."

"I always knew you were a good man, Simon Boswell." Brian leaned over to foolishly play off another *friendly* nudge. "And not a half bad actor, either."

Simon became interested in Brian for an entirely different reason. "You do realize not ALL of it is acting?"

Brian furrowed his brow. "How can one tell the difference?"

"Easy."

Brian sent a brow up in curiosity.

"I'm not the one being *fucked* in the ass. On, or off, screen."

Clapping a confident hand on Simon's shoulder, Brian bent toward the available ear. "I like you, Simon. I short changed your attempts. I was one of the earlier *contestants*, when you were being represented by the clothing line company. You can have my full support for this venture, since you made Michael an offer to be in the calendar. And, hell, if you need me to buy up some calendars, to show those homophobic cash whores where to stick their..."

Simon waved a hand in front of Brian. "I can't agree with you more, Brian. I can keep you on as a silent partner, so to speak, should we need someone to back us up. I hear you're quite the famous *face* in this `Burg."

"Oh, really??!!"

Simon had to chuckle from the look of utter wonderment on Brian's face. "No, I'm kidding. It's mostly from Ben that I've heard about you. But I'm willing to change my first impressions of you, if you're serious about helping with contributing donations."

Brian was backing up as he realized that Michael might become worried about him if he didn't hurry soon. "I'll keep in touch."

Simon suddenly realized who he might be letting go of as quite a few men, surrounding them glanced at Brian as if he were the juiciest steak on the grill. "Sure I can't convince you to be a part of this? I wasn't part of the first audition process, I hate that they passed you up."

"They didn't. I passed on them and their shitty, condescending attitudes toward a large demographic they should be fuckin' catering to since half their line is made of black leather, or synthetic material of the like. The *One Fuck Fantasy* crowd of homosexual lifestyles. Besides, I don't undress for profit. Nothing on you. Just me." Brian was at enough of a distance to cause a slight gathering of his normal flock of worshipers. He saluted, toward Simon, as he quickly exited.

Simon couldn't help but chuckle, a grin lingering on his mouth. He glanced over at Ben, who remained intently looking at Brian as he left the room. Simon eyeballed the conversation to his left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One twink put up a palm to *talk to the hand* to his friend's face. "Don't even GO there, Trevor."

"I'm just saying... Kinney's been known to drop trough at the slightest insistence of bowing to the Great Almighty Cock. Seems odd that the ManSlut of Liberty Avenue suddenly grows some morals."

"Maybe he's falling in love..."

"With that Pretty Blond Boy?"

"No. The dark haired one."

"Yeah... `cha... and monkeys might fly outta my butt."

"That is so gross! Be careful, though, you're perverted enough to have that actually happen to you, SkankBoy!"

"Hey... I resemble that remark. And please, stop reading those Harlequin Romance novels, QueerBoy. You're seriously scaring me with all your romantic bullshit."

"Hey... here's a shocker... maybe Kinney's already been in love. All this time. And he's saved himself. His body. From the one man he knows won't treat him like the shit he thinks he is. He's simply waiting... waiting for his *true love* to be ready... and willing..."

"I... am... so... DONE... with you!"

"Trevor! Wait up! Come on! I'm just kidding! Can't you accept that I have a tendency toward wild, idealistic, sentimental views of a fool's paradise, too... and still be as queer as the next gay man? Trevor?!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon shook his head, losing himself in laughter. Liberty Avenue, and Babylon, hadn't changed one bit. He absolutely loved coming back home.

Ben, on the other hand, had become caught up in a truth that had been verbalized. One that had echoed through his fragile mind, and heart, during his relationship with Michael. Also, another reason why he'd let Michael go, so easily.

**~~TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

“Mikey...”

Only ONE person called him *Mikey*. Could say it with such adoring love and endless affection. And could get away with the tacky sentimentality of the nickname.

“Mmm... Hmm...” Michael arched into the anticipation of a soothing touch to his body.

“Miiikkkeeeyyy...” The voice began to leisurely play with his subconscious.

“Yeah?” Never once opening his eyes, Michael simply raised his eyebrows in question. He didn’t even bother to lift his face from the pillow he was buried in. Brian’s pillow or, at least, the pillow he’d stolen from Brian last night.

“Do you love me?”

Michael swore he felt the whispered heat against his cheek, ghosting across his exposed skin to end up nipping at his neck, searching lower to his naked upper chest. He reacted to what he thought was his reality, flipping over onto his back. He didn’t want to leave his early morning admirer with absolutely NO access to every part of his delectable body. “Yeah...” He stated the fact like it was a given, or else why would he let this situation get to this level of debauchery? He kept his eyes closed for fear that his dream would end.

“Always have, always will, huh?”

A long, sinewy frame shadowed his own smaller one being held down on the mattress. Rough knees nudged his thighs apart, then rested on either side of his legs. There was a deep need to keep him locked to the bed, like he might run away.

Michael let a small smile work it’s way out. “Oh... yeah.”

“Michael?”

“Ah-huh?” Michael felt the face hover above his own, tempting his mouth to open with everything but the lips he’d savored both in and out of his dreams.

“I love you, Michael. Never forget that.”

The words were gently spoken against his lips, sending the tender skin to quivering.

“I won’t. I swear.” Breathless at the thought of his fantasy coming true, Michael wanted... needed... a kiss in the most extreme way. His torso came slightly off the bed in order to move toward his mystery lover.

“Michael?”

Michael’s brow furrowed in befuddlement.

Why wasn’t there a reciprocating action. Why didn’t Michael’s imaginary lover succumb to his seductive ways?

“Michael!”

Michael finally opened his weary eyes to find Brian’s head secured to his chest, by his neck. During his waking period, between sleep and reality, Brian had been calling his name, very innocently. The other words, and most importantly every action used against his slumbering body, were in Michael’s head as a *truth* he’d been only wishful thinking about.

Somewhere, in the passionate throws of ecstasy, in his dreams, Michael had put Brian into a head lock with his left arm. Apparently, squeezing as tightly as he possibly could.

“Holy Shit!” Michael shot up in shock, scooting back at the head of the mattress. A hand went to cover his mouth. “Dear god! Brian, I’m sor-...”

Some of the color was returning to Brian’s pale face. He nearly gagged for his next breath. “What... are you swearing?” The question sounded strangled out of his mouth.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Michael rushed over to rub at Brian’s back, pressing apologetic kisses all over his heated skin. “I thought...”

Brian put up a hand to ward off excuses. “Please. Spare me the mutual misery and pain. At least... until I can get my lung capacity back.” The hand to his throat tried to soothe the aches. “Damn, Mikey. I thought waking you up, as quietly as I could, was gonna do the trick. I guess I walked right into that one.” He laughed at his own mistake. “I just came over to feel your forehead. Make sure your spiked temperature went down from last night.”

Michael was almost climbing into Brian’s lap, before he realized how naked he was. “Whoa!” He looked down at his underwear as he kneeled on the bed. He was on full display for Brian, the soft sheets once draped over his body falling off to land in a pile of material.

Michael’s initial response to his mid-morning dream was clearly evident underneath.

As Brian turned his neck, back-n-forth, trying to work the kinks out, he couldn’t help but notice what was at the left of him, at eye level. Who knew Michael was as well-endowed as some of the many tricks who’d passed through his miserable life. His next breath was taken from him. His mouth remained slightly open as he began to hungrily stare at his best friend’s barely clothed physique.

Hazel eyes trailed slowly up the slim waist, along the tight abdominal wall into the expanding upper chest. They centered on the dark pink nipples standing at attention, then suddenly rose toward the open mouth. The thick bottom lip moist and full from constant sucking by it’s owner. Soon those desire-filled eyes locked onto the deepening chocolate ones that had been frightened of what would happen should one more move be taken.

Brian saved them both. He cleared his throat, biting his lip and picked up the sheet to cover Michael from constant worry. “Did you want some breakfast?” He had to look away for a second to catch his inhale without a mishap. He was speechless for an entirely different reason.

Michael sat down, his legs stretched off to the side as he clutched the blanket to his early morning boner. “You cookin’?”

Brian was able to look directly at Michael’s eyes, now. “Do you want me to?”

As Michael slowly nodded his head, he noticed Brian had placed one of his hands down, palm flat, on the mattress. His own hand reached out to touch him. “Can I help?”

Strangely, Brian found that he couldn’t answer that one as quickly as all the others. There was something in Michael’s voice that suggested a certain comfortableness, despite the awkward moment. How Michael could inflect that *little boy* voice into his tone drove Brian batty. Who knew the attribute could seem so inadvertently adorable and sexy. “Michael, you’re a grown man. If you want to help, you can. But can I make one suggestion?”

“What?” Michael was curious to what Brian could want from him. Hell, he was shocked Brian even bothered asking.

“Take a few minutes to relax... or at the very least, find some way to make yourself more... uh, presentable. The kitchen is for cooking food, not a recreational extravaganza.” Brian tried to push himself up off the mattress, but soon realized he could have been talking about himself. “On second thought...” He climbed over Michael to lay down behind him. “Scoot over.” He needed more room to figure out their placement.

“Oh, sorry.” Michael tried to pull back as far as he could, trying to see where Brian was going.

“Stop apologizing. Lay back down. We’re not going anywhere right this minute.” Brian didn’t like that Michael felt the need to distance himself. He reached out to draw Michael to his chest. “Don’t go too far. We’re in this together.”

The second Michael’s rear fit into Brian’s groin, he knew they were both in the same boat, sinking fast and furious.

“THIS, as you call it, could get much worse the closer we are in this bed.” Although Michael talked of this whole situation being a bad idea, that didn’t stop him from burrowing his backside into Brian’s front.

In sync, they both rested back down on the mattress, choosing to share one pillow.

Brian encircled his arms around Michael’s torso, clutching the warm frame to his chilled body. His set his chin on Michael’s bony shoulder. “It’s all a mind set, Michael. If we get one another to focus on something more important... like how hungry we are... for food, then maybe we can get out of bed.”

The more they lay together, in such close proximity, the harder they both became.

Michael cleared his throat, hoping that Brian was right. He settled into his favorite niche and closed his eyes. “Brian... it’s not working.” His hand reached back to caress the rounded curves of Brian’s rear and hip bone. Not even bothering to remove them once he understood the reaction he was getting from Brian.

Brian let his head fall forward into the crevice of Michael’s neck and shoulder. “Stop touching me like that.” His thickening lips barely skimming the sensitive pale flesh, Brian choked out his response.

“I’ve always touched you like that.” Michael began to roll over so Brian was cuddled to his side as he half lay on his back. He latched onto one of Brian’s forearms. “What’s so different about us? Today... last night? Of all our time together... why now?”

Brian could feel his body intensify, instead of lessen. Lord! Even vaguely talking about anything was sending him into a spiral. “We’re back to being bachelors again?”

“Nope. That’s not it.” Michael shook his head. “Maybe, we’ve come to some realization about our futures.”

“Like who’s important? Worth the pain and sacrifice?” Brian tucked his flushed face into the pillow.

“Exactly.” Michael leaned his head toward Brian.

Brian shook his head in response, tucking his face into Michael’s hair. “You smell... amazing... so... inviting.” He sniffed, inhaling Michael’s scent deeply, the areas he could reach.

“Brian, that’s not helping.” Michael giggled at the tickles sent over his exposed skin.

“I’m not trying to help. I’m being fuckin’ honest.” Brian sent a leg over Michael’s thighs. “It’s difficult not to be honest when I’m around you.”

“Except the ONE thing...” Michael put up his index finger to make his point. “... you know I want to hear.” He hated to sound condescending, but sometimes the truth hurt.

“Michael, I...” Brian heaved a huge sigh of contentment. “This isn’t the time to say something like that.”

“Well, when will we reach that time? Because I think I’ve been fairly patient.”

This time, Brian rolled over onto his back. “I know you have. I admire you for your stamina.” He kept his arm encircled about Michael, in the process.

Michael went with him, as if they were attached at the hip. He curled into Brian’s side, slinking down to fit under Brian’s arm. Directly over Brian’s heart, Michael found the most perfect place to perch.

Their legs tangled under the single sheet.

Michael drew up the material to Brian’s mid-sternum. He stretched an arm across Brian's torso to let his fingers dangle in the air. “Don’t get me wrong, Brian. I’ve seen it in other ways how much you care. Even during my other relationships, the feelings were truly evident. I’ll admit to growing scared, a time or two, that you were actually looking into a future with Justin...”

Brian brushed his fingers through Michael’s dark locks, twisting the natural curl between the digits. “Settling, was more like it. Didn’t think I was enough, or worth the fight. I knew, without a doubt, I could hurt you worse than David or Ben.”

“But... as you often forget to recognize...”

“You’re STILL here.” Brian felt the lump in his throat lodge, momentarily stunting his speech. He wanted to say so much more than he had.

“Do I...? Are you ever...?” Michael attempted to formulate the words he felt had to be asked.

“What?” Brian squeezed Michael as close as he could get him, pressing a delicate kiss to his forehead.

“Have I ever become a disappointment to you? Ever been ashamed to know me as well as you do?”

Brian only rolled his eyes because this was typical for Michael, whenever things got serious between them. Here was the reason he should say what he actually felt for Michael. But there was another feeling holding him back. That knowing, should they take initiative and forage ahead into a romantic relationship, the day Michael was faced with the truth about him, Brian would be devastated at the loss of his one constant companion. Losing Michael, in his life, wouldn’t give meaning to existence of any kind.

Brian hated feeling that vulnerable. Hated that he knew he had a weakness that could destroy him. The problem was, Brian had always known Michael was aware of this problem, too. Michael would try any way to NOT hurt Brian, by possibly putting himself in harm’s way. THAT kind of love frightened him.

The, literal, nauseating fear of some commitment with any resemblance to love.

Brian had wanted desperately to BE the man of Michael’s dreams. That knight in shining armor who overcomes all obstacles in order to win his true love’s affection. Sweep Michael off his feet and show him what romance was all about. But did he really have all the answers?

Everything between them was screwed up. Michael’s affections had always been clear, even when in love with other men. That so-called *armor* of Brian’s was more rust, then metal. The kind of men he surrounded himself with wouldn’t care if the armor was up or not. Brian always thought Michael deserved a loving, romantic boyfriend. Michael always believed that Brian deserved a sexual partner that met all of his needs in and out of bedroom. Moment by moment, year after year, they’d shown one another that they could be everything, and anything, the other wanted, or needed, emotionally.

The *sex* was the only step not taken between them, and, truthfully, the least of their worries. Neither man was afraid of their roles in bed. What brought them to their knees, so to speak, was what would happen if they knew one another more intimately than either of them could fathom.

Could it destroy their long-time friendship? Was it powerful enough to make them even stronger as a couple?

Little did either man know that they were perfect partners. But it would take more than just a simple admission of love for them to accept their fate and embrace the unknown. As long as they had each other, they could survive whatever came their way.

Michael pulled away from Brian, climbing over his prone form to plop down on the hardwood floor. “I, uh, feel like taking a shower.” The agonizing silence that filtered in after his questions made Michael nervous.

Brian didn’t dare look at Michael. He arched an arm over his eyes. “I’ll start breakfast. How do you want your eggs?”

“Don’t bother.” Michael looked down at his bare toes, wiggling them curiously. He had to get up the nerve to say his next words. “Brian, I...”

“Look, Michael...” Brian was prepared to defend himself, but when he removed his arm to turn, gazing at Michael, he had to swallow with some hardship.

What was going on?

Michael shuffled to the side of the bed, holding out his hands for Brian to take. “Come with me.”

“What?” Brian didn’t want to get his ass kicked in a moment of weakness. “Where are we going?”

Michael pulled a limp Brian off of the bed, settling him to sit on the side. Running his fingers through the dark mahogany locks, Michael grabbed a hold of Brian’s head. He brought him closer to press a tender kiss to the sweaty skin on the forehead. “Shower with me?” His mouth traced a trail down the temple over the square cheekbone, making a slow pace to the waiting lips. He lingered over the naked flesh, savoring every square inch of Brian he could partake in.

Brian didn’t know what to do with his own arms. He reached up to cup Michael’s hips, leaning his head forward to rest on the abdomen in front of him. “Michael, you don’t know what you’re asking. I thought the whole point of this morning was to appease our bodies of that very thing?”

“Something’s changing between us, Brian. Something’s different. It’s too fresh and new to be riddled with flowery words that could hurt us later on. Both of us know what to say, but seem afraid to vocalize them. It’s obvious that we both know what we’re good at from the relationships we’ve had. We’ve never been conventional, or any way normal. So why don’t we jump past the awkward moments and agree that we both feel something pretty significant for one another. Defining it, whatever the emotion may be, will come later.” Michael felt the arms wrap around his waist. He placed his head on top of Brian’s soft hair.

“What are you saying? Exactly?” Brian cuddled Michael close, placing his ear to Michael’s flat stomach. He liked feeling Michael petting his hair, combing through the tangled locks.

“I’m good at the affection. The *love*, if you will. That can be my department. I’ve always had enough to go around.” Michael loved feeling the hum of Brian’s laughter against his tummy. “You’re good at the sex. As some would say, the *intimacy*... and others would admit it can be the *romance*, as well. Depending on what has brought the couple together.”

“You want us to be a *couple*, Michael?” Brian let a happy grin slip out.

“Haven’t we always been, Brian? Just never truly able to sit down and find ourselves at the same exact points in our lives where we could be ready to take this further.” Michael cleared his throat, feeling like he might be losing Brian if he didn’t let his offer make sense sooner or later. “There’s chemistry between us. You can’t deny that. Sex has been the one aspect of our relationship that hasn’t been dealt with.”

“Our relationship was never based on anything but mutual respect and lo-...” Brian hated the way Michael interrupted him with one finger over his open mouth.

“So... are you declining my offer?” Michael titled Brian’s face to look up at him.

“Hell no!!” Brian shrugged his shoulders, pulling Michael closer to him. “I simply need to be sure you’re ready for this. Can you be prepared for the fallout should things go bad? I don’t want what ruins our friendship to be that I’ve hurt you unnecessarily.”

“Do you think, in all honesty, that in these past twenty some years, you haven’t hurt me the same way you would’ve if we’d been... exclusive? And when the fuck did I become so saintly? I have just about the same capacity to hurt you as you do to me. Besides, how will we ever know what we can, or can’t do... or be, for each other, if we don’t try?”

Brian shook his head slowly, closing his eyes to the remarkable person that Michael was becoming as they grew older. “I’ve always been up for a challenge.”

“There’s never been any need for competition between you and I. We both want the same thing.”

“I’m not talking about you and I, Michael. I’m talking about showing those *nay-sayers*, who don’t understand us, that *this* is possible. Albeit weird, a little out of the ordinary, but still a sure thing that could last beyond anyone’s concept of what normal relationships do.”

“We don’t have to prove anything to anybody. All we have to be is what we’ve always been for one another.”

“I know, but it could be fun to watch everyone’s faces when we walk into a room... or the Diner... or your Mom’s house, Lindsay and Melanie’s... Babylon or Woody’s." Brian cleared his throat, glancing down in shame. "I, uh, can’t promise not to stray... revert back to my old ways.”

“Hey... I’m not asking you to not be who you are. I realize you’re a sexual being, prone to unnatural cravings at odd hours. I’m simply asking that when you and I are together, to focus on me, on us. To be here for me, for us, when it counts. I’m not a fuckin’ miracle worker.”

“That won’t be a problem. But I have one complaint. You’re giving me too much free range. I’m liable to fuck it all up and cause a massive rift between us.”

“And I’m not?”

“Michael, you’re not as shallow as I am.”

“Inside, Brian, when it comes down to the wire, in all seriousness, you’re not the same asshole you are on the surface.”

“Gosh, that rang in my ears like a compliment.”

“Sorry, but it’s not in you to be the bastard you portray to the world. Once you’re aware of the stakes, I think you’ll become a different person. I think, in a small way, you already are.”

“Michael... you sound suspiciously like you know something I don’t. Or you’ve been able to figure something out that I already know, but you’re unwilling to share with me, simply enjoying watching me squirm to find out.”

“That last one sounded about right.” Michael tried to yank Brian off the mattress, but he wouldn’t budge.

“What’s going on in that mind of your’s, Michael?”

“Please... come on, Brian. Those sheets? A blind man in the next ‘Burg could see your motives from that distance.”

Brian reached back to caress the warm sheets they vacated not too long ago. He stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. “A gift from Lindsay, when she... uh, well, when she thought my life was gonna change for the better.”

“Oh, really? When was that?” Michael smirked, raising one eyebrow in curiosity.

Brian swallowed, unsure if he should disclose that little secret, from years ago. Not certain Michael would like to know how ready Brian had been and how oblivious he’d acted, at the time. A moment in time that had been lost. The last time Brian had attempted anything to pursue Michael, until he knew Michael was at a place in his life when he would appreciate the gestures. “I’m sorry...” He bit his top lip, looking toward the ceiling. “I seem to have lost the reason why.” He let his forehead fall into his hands, rubbing at the sensitive skin. “My brain must be addled or something. Give me a few minutes, I might be able to recall...” It didn’t help any that Michael’s underwear clad body was an inch in front of his nose.

Michael leaned down to press a lingering kiss on Brian’s moving mouth. Well, for right now, with Brian rambling, there was really no other way to stop him from continuing. Desperate measures for drastic times. “Don’t hurt yourself on my account.” Rubbing the back of his hand over Brian’s cheek. “You know where I’ll be when you feel like  
joining me.”

With that, Michael turned, walked a few paces to the bathroom doorway, paused, slid the underwear down his legs, slipped one leg out, then the other. Balling up the material, Michael threw the item toward Brian. He gave a split-second, side-long glance of his enlarged cock amidst the dark cloud of pubic hair. He sent Brian a shy wink, with a sly grin of knowing what he could be starting.

Brian had caught the rolled up ball of underwear, still feeling Michael’s heat on the clothing. If he was really sick and twisted he’d sniff the damn things, but right now.... there was a naked man in his shower willing to go any distance with him, in whatever direction they needed to go. He’d always taken what leftovers were offered from the men he fucked. Never once caring if he’d see them again. Probably thinking he was only worth what he asked for and got in return.

With Michael, anything remotely sexual would be considered emotional suicide. There was too much of everything there to act upon. It was a rare thing when Brian could actually get up the damn nerve to seek out Michael in any other way but as a best friend.

Michael was frightening, but in a good way. Scary without the horror masks and creepy sounds.

Michael had Brian, though he never knew it. From the first second of meeting to this very minute of contemplation, Brian had been caught in Michael’s web. Wasn’t Michael’s fault in the least. Brian just wasn’t as stubborn, cold-hearted and unloving as most people thought.

Brian threw down Michael’s underwear and stood on wobbly feet. He had felt this same way in the comic book store. The night he’d confronted Michael with needing to find out if he was more upset about Ben having had him, at the White Party, or Brian having Ben.

The true test to see if Brian still had his *spot* in Michael’s life, his rightful place in Michael’s heart.

Brian knew it was a bad idea, to catch Michael unawares like that. To clutter their usual closeness and ability to separate mere kisses and subtle touches with full on sexual need. Michael swore the past didn’t hinder him in the present with his relationship with Ben, but it irked Brian to see Michael denying the truth that was written plainly on his own face. For the first time, Brian was actually regretting having slept with someone in his past.

The problem with Michael was, he could be a rare human who reacted to his surroundings, rather than acting upon them. He didn’t care about past, future or present. He cared about the seconds he was with you. The moments you honored him with your presence; talking, laughing and loving. He forgot about thinking and worked from his heart, which generally got crushed from whatever the fallout was afterwards.

Kissing Michael, for Brian, had been a good idea in his head, but having the plan work out... fell short of proving any other point but that there was something still tangible between them. A chemistry that once ignited could explode into something greater or burn out once the flame died down. That kiss definitely proved to Brian that Michael hadn’t been lost to him. Ben was a part of his life, but there was still room for him, wherever Michael deemed to place his importance.

Brian peeled his own underwear off, not certain the steps he was going to take would be one of regret or triumph. His heart was a trickier organ than his dick. The constant pain of his heart was the most difficult to repair and the most confusing to solve. His dick was the easiest to appease, the most fickle of his body. Combining the two would be the even more challenging. He cleared his throat, worked out his shoulders by rolling them in odd directions, like he was gearing up for some major workout in the gym.

The water turning on was his cue that Michael was inside the shower.

Brian took another step, but stopped... not sure if he had courage enough to take Michael’s simple offer. It seemed way too easy to accept this role Michael was creating for him. He truly didn’t know if he wanted to be able to slide by the seat of his pants so easily. He wanted to be held accountable for being a shit to Michael if he was and called out for it. Not be allowed to slip by without suffering the consequences. But if memory served him right, the consequences, in hurting Michael, nearly dismantled his own self. So, maybe Michael wasn’t just catering to him, handing him an easy way out. Maybe Michael was showing him that he could be an adult about feelings, emotions and relationships, where other men would leave him at the first sign of infidelity.

Yeah, Michael was a man of many faces. And this one, that was with him now, left him salivating for what could happen next, but at the same time this Michael scared the living shit out of him.

Something was preventing Brian from advancing forward. He could define the feeling, placing a name on it.

FEAR.

But acting on it was another story.

Brian had attempted to keep his own private vow of not getting deeply involved with anyone who had value in his life or an interest in his baser emotions of want, need and acceptance.

Jack Kinney had been the one who cured Brian of that unnecessary neediness. Except in hindsight, Jack’s cold, selfish, brutish behavior catapulted Brian directly into Michael’s waiting arms. No one but Michael knew how low Brian had sunk into deep, dark depression. Michael had an unknown, untapped power to bring Brian back down to the level he tried running away from.

Facing Michael was, in a way, like facing his past. Brian had to come to terms with being able to fall into that much vulnerability again.

Brian was at the bathroom door, secretly watching the pale naked form in the fog of hot water pouring out of the dangling shower head.

Michael stood under the steady spray, back to the glass wall. A small bar of oatmeal cream soap and a darkly knitted washcloth were in his hands. Lathering up the pliable material, Michael began to serenely concentrate on washing his body, inch by slow inch, as if he knew someone was eyeballing him, but not caring. Michael had no idea that anyone was looking at him. His eyes were shut, giving in to the constant daydreams that filled his waking mind.

Brian sidled up to the glass wall. His heart was picking up speed as he wondered who Michael could be picturing with him. He placed a wayward palm, flat on the glass panel, closing his own eyes, simply leaning his forehead against the shower wall.

 ****Please... let it be ME!**** Brian quietly proclaimed in his mind. 

****Without a doubt... it has been and always will be... YOU!!****

Brian methodically opened one lid to find Michael had come up to meet him at the glass wall. He was trying to match the shape and fit of his own hand to Brian’s. Michael’s forehead was against the panel, as well, as he turned his head to feel the amount of energy passing between them, despite the heavy glass blocking their connection.

Their *inner* bond was shockingly evident.

Michael had to giggle. Brian was much larger, in every way, compared to him. “Almost!” His voice was loud enough so Brian could hear him through the wall. He shook his drenched raven locks, like a wet dog trying to dry his shaggy mane. He nearly lost his balance from the force. He had to use both hands to keep himself from falling. “You’ve got the best shower! Always has the hottest water!” Sudsy water was dripping off of every body part and crevice on Michael’s muscular frame.

“No wonder my rent’s so high!” Brian yelled back. He motioned his head toward the shower door. “Mind if I come in?!”

The widest, giddiest smile eeked out of Michael’s mouth. “You’re what I’ve been waiting for...” He would have been a total cheeseball and added, “all my life”, but he thought Brian had gotten the gist of his feelings, over the years. He didn’t need to reinstate the obvious.

Oddly, both men were acting a bit nervous and excited in the same breath.

As Brian opened the door, to enter, he let the door shut behind him. He simply stood there, not knowing what to do next.

Michael literally threw himself into Brian’s willing arms.

Brian allowed the rambunctious attack to happen, but decided to respond with a slight haughty tone to his voice. “I thought you put me in charge of the sex?!”

Michael slid off Brian’s tall frame, standing dejected and thoroughly prepared for his reprimand. “Damn! I did, didn’t I?!? Sorry... I’ll try no to let that happen again. Got caught up in the idea of this...” He used his hand to sweep around them. “... becoming real.” He set a palm to Brian’s chest, liking the feel of the erratic heartbeat underneath, playing with the steam beading all over Brian’s naked skin.

“*This*, Michael, better DAMN well happen again... or I will be forced to seek out underhanded ways to make you succumb to my evil, wicked...” Brian dipped and nipped at Michael’s throat and collarbone. “... wicked motives.” His hand firmly cupped the well rounded backside, thrusting their groins together in one hard shove.

“Yes, sir!” Michael had to grab onto Brian’s biceps to keep from falling, cracking his skull on the glass.

“Don’t call me that.” Brian tried not to be reminded of the person that one word conjured up. “Name’s *Brian*... B-R-I-A-....”

Michael shut him up with another kiss. “Forgive me.” Breathless at the release, chocolate puppy dog eyes blinked up, wide-eyed and innocent, at Brian. “Force of habit.”

“That is one habit we shall try to break you of.” Brian stepped up to Michael, nearly pinning him to the glass panel. He let the small body go, tucking one arm under Michael’s left armpit, palm flat to the glass. His other arm was placed above Michael's right shoulder. “Turn around, Michael.” He nudged nose tips with Michael to get him to obey.

Michael’s eyes lit in shock, the pleasure began to roll through him of what could possibly be in store for him. He reach up a hand to curl about Brian’s biceps and elbow, he pressed a kiss to the inside of the arm. He bit delicately at the exposed flesh. Michael seemed to be stalling.

Brian ran the back of one hand over Michael’s upper chest, swiping at the pools of water collecting on the clean skin. “I’ll wash your back for you.” His long tongue came out to slurp up the gathering water.

Michael’s eyebrow rose in sudden realization of Brian’s plan. With that sexy tongue as a instigator. “Mmm... how kind of you to offer your services.” He did as asked, knowing full well he was placing himself in very trustworthy hands. Hands that had way too much experience beyond his realm.

Somehow the mere idea of quality verses quantity flew about in Michael’s mind. He knew what worked for him. Maybe Brian wouldn’t mind hearing his likes... and dislikes. For now, he’d wait and see what Brian had up his... uhrm, sleeve. More figuratively, than literally.

Brian swiveled to reach for the soap Michael had abandoned, but didn’t pick the washcloth. Instead he took down a mesh ball attached, at the end, to a twelve inch wand. The item could be used, on a solo showering, to wash one’s own backside and any other unreachable body part.

“Please...” Michael lay his cheek against the shower wall, palms plastered to the sleek, wet surface. “... be... gentle...” His fingers scrunched the slippery glass, trying to find something to cling to when he felt his orgasm hit him.

“With you...” Brian ran the mesh ball from Michael’s calf all the way up his inner leg and thigh to the crevice of his perfectly round ass. He bit at the ear lobe he found readily available. “... I’m always gentle.” His last word was whispered in Michael’s ear canal which nearly sent him into orbit.

Michael’s first groan came out as Brian’s soapy hand engulfed his hard-on in one complete squeeze. “Christ!”

Using the wand as expertly as if it was his own hand, Brian washed Michael as best he could without trying to make him faint in ecstasy. The item was thrown away as soon as Brian grew eager to touch Michael more intimately than with some mesh ball.

One hand on Michael’s abdomen, keeping him steady, Brian sent a trail of slurpy kisses all down Michael’s back ending up right at the cusp of his rear. Only his hand smoothed over the pale globes. Growling out his frustration, Brian yanked Michael around, sending him to cling to Brian’s biceps. He back walked them under the shower spray, hoping the furious downpour of water would drench their libidos. He was breathing heavily as he leaned back to encase his entire head in water. His mouth was open long enough to swallow down a few gulps of liquid.

Michael grew savage witnessing the breathtaking vision of Brian fully drenched. This time he forcefully pushed Brian back against the tiles. Pinning his wrists to the wall and attacking every available inch of soaked flesh.

Brian knew if he didn’t speak up he’d lose this moment to say  something in answer to one of Michael’s questions from earlier. Michael was too willing to drop to his knees and service Brian’s cock. And strangely, Brian didn’t need or want Michael to lay his sexual fulfillment at simply pleasing him. Something told him that Michael was too giving of a partner. Was an excellent Bottom, in most cases. But for once, he thought about being dominated by Michael. Watching the generous soul get everything he deserved. He bet THAT would be the most satisfying orgasm Michael had ever lost himself in.

Brian tried to catch his next breath, his heart beat and desire rolling into a mass of emotions. Pretty soon he’d lose utter control, with no way back. “No... Michael... no...” He shook his head, attempting to pick Michael up off the shower floor. Cupping the sides of Michael’s head, his fingers playing at the area of Michael’s nape where hair met skin. He meshed their foreheads as one. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve never been a disappointment to me. EVER. In any way. In fact, there are too many moments to name where I’ve been so proud of you... I’ve been struck speechless. Like now...” His mouth fell open, trying to breath as best he could. “Yes, I want very badly to have sex with you. So fuckin' bad I can taste it in my mouth. Drive you right into this wall behind me. Fuck you so hard you can feel me in every step that you take the next morning. But you’re fuckin’ killing me here, Michael.” Pulling Michael to his chest, he wrapped an arm about the hunched shoulders. “Don’t lower yourself for me. You've never embarrassed me. I’ve always felt that we were equals. All the way. Different in too many ways, but still equals.” Brian sighed out a heavy breath as he swiped at his face, taking off the droplets of dripping water. “Besides, since I’m in charge of the sex... I say for right now...” He cleared his throat, knowing that these words would sound very un-Brian-like for him. “I could probably get off just by you touching me... watching you react to me touching you. Can I touch you, Michael?”

Michael had been shocked by Brian forceful refusal of a blowjob. But damn... he nearly came at Brian’s heartfelt admission. “Brian... you don’t need to say things like that at these times.” He leaned into Brian, wiping at his face to press a kiss, or two, on the awaiting mouth. “I’ll do anything you want.” He smiled sweetly wanting to cuddled his body into Brian’s body. “That was almost better than hearing you say you lov...” Brian’s hand latched onto Michael’s engorged cock, trailing down the length to the bed of dark pubic hair. “... me.”

“I do.” Brian whispered in his own *little boy* voice, he pushed his face in to the side of Michael’s, nipping tenderly at his skin.

“I know.” Michael responded in a hushed tone, as well. He thrust into Brian’s hearty grip.

“Touch me. I like to feel you touching me... caressing me... kissing me.... licking me... fondlin’...” Michael took Brian in hand and nearly sent him into sensory overload. “Ohhhhhh, Michael!”

“I’m accepting the offer for the calendar shoot.”

“Don’t do it for me.” Brian tried exhale through his clenched teeth.

“I’m not. It’s for me. For charity.” Michael kissed as much of Brian as he could without wanting to dip lower than his abdomen. It was too tempting. “Problem is... I don’t know how to reach Simon. I think I’ll have to call Ben...” He gulped down a large amount of air as Brian expertly worked his cock over.

Brian dangled an arm over Michael’s shoulder. “Simon gave me a card on my way out. There’s no need for you to involve Ben.” He tickled the back hairline at Michael's nape.

Michael inhaled a strong breath. “There’s no need for you to be jealous, Brian. Ben had his chance.” With that, Michael jerked Brian off in one and two shakes, almost losing him at one point.

“Ahhhhh... I’m not jealous of Benji, Michael. I’m simply worried that he might see this as an opportunity to patch things up with you.”

“Why? Why would I want to revisit that nightmare again? Especially when I have YOU to come home to?”

Brian cracked up laughing that he could have such a normal conversation while in the middle of one of the most defining orgasms of his life. “You do have me, Michael. You've had me... all this time.” He spun them off the wall to set back under the shower spray where they could stand and combine their bodies in one tangled mess of arms and legs. “Are you almost there, Michael?”

“Keep talking like that and you might get me to cum twice.” Michael’s voice caught as he kept thrusting against Brian’s wandering hands and fingers.

Brian hungrily dipped to suckle at Michael’s open mouth. “I can’t wait to be inside you. I’ll make you scream for mercy.”

“Promises... promises... promises...”

“You just wait, Michael.”

“I always have. And I always will.”

Both of them reached an eventual moment of release, calling out one another’s name against each other’s lips and leaning into their entwined bodies seeking warmth and comfort.

Michael tucked his flushed face into Brian’s shoulder, inching up to his neck. “I knew there was another reason why I liked your shower.”

“We’ll have to try your's one day.”

“It’s too cramped, Brian.” Michael shook his head in decline.

“It’s your shower, Michael. In your home. It’s perfect. Just like you.”

“Brian...”

“Hmm...”

“Just... stop talking for a minute.” Michael wondered if he’d be able to hide his newly formed hard-on.

Brian couldn’t stop himself from snickering. “You’re p-...”

“Pathetic. Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“No. Michael, I was gonna say, ‘You’re priceless.’ And... all mine.” Brian hugged Michael to his completely sopping wet, naked, still horny body. He shook them both from side-to-side in an extremely silly embrace that had Michael giggling.

“Gloater.” Michael delicately smacked Brian’s bottom.

“Well, you know honey-chile... like my Auntie Lulabelle says... if you got it... flaunt it!!” Brian did his best Emmett impersonation, with *two snaps* in the air, that nearly had Michael cackling in laughter and doubling over at the hilarity of the sight of Brian’s dead-on mimicry.

**~~TBC...**   



	4. Chapter 4

Simon was sitting at his desk, looking over a few slides of photographs for another project he was working on. His huge office was set inside a studio loft that was even larger than Brian’s. 

Ben was pacing in front of him, wearing a hole in the cement floor.

“Darling, he’s not late. You’re just too damn eager to see him again. Get this whole mess over with.”

“Don’t talk to me, Simon.” Ben paused in his back-n-forth motion, pointing a finger of blame on his best friend. “I told you I wasn’t gonna be fine with this. We still have too many unresolved issues between us.”

Simon placed the magnifying glass down on his desktop. “Wow... for a minute there... you could almost be talking about the shit I went through with you, Ben dear.”

Ben crossed his arms over his bulky chest. “I thought we worked through our past relationship?”

Simon raised a curious eyebrow. “YOU sure did, but hell if you were there for me.”

“I’m sorry, Simon.” Ben sighed heavily. “Damn. All I seem to be doing, these days, is apologizing for my past actions.”

“Honey, that’s what you get for being a *shit* to your old boyfriends. Just cause you've decided to become all high and mighty, doesn’t mean we’ve jumped on your bandwagon. And from the looks of things... this whole Buddha/Tibetan bullshit hasn’t made much of a difference. So, you know, there you go.”

“Yeah... back to square one.”

A loud buzzer sounded, indicating someone was downstairs at the front door.

Simon slid off his stool, glancing at his watch. “Wow. He’s cute, sexy AND punctual. Too bad he’s got a mean, protective boyfriend.” He got up to let Michael in.

Ben shook his head, hands on his hips as he followed Simon to the door. He had no idea where to place himself. He didn’t really think he had to be here, but as one of the investors he felt obligated to show each model, for the calendar, that he was supportive of everything that Simon had control of already. “Brian’s NOT his  
boyfriend.”

Simon cackled with laughter. “Is that what you’re telling yourself in order to cope?” As he waited for Michael to approach, he took a moment to ponder Ben’s quiet attitude of nerves. “Damn, Ben... he’s just a man. A simple one by the sounds of it. You must have had it bad for the poor boy. Does he have any idea?”

Ben had to shake his head out of his mind fog. “Idea of what?”

“How fuckin’ badly you want him back?”

This time the sound of the doorbell disrupted their conversation.

Simon wandered through the hallway down to the heavy, sliding front door. “Oh, my. Well, would you look at this adorable cutie!”

Ben’s brow wrinkled in wonder. Shit! Simon was going a bit overboard with the compliments toward Michael. Hitching up his tan slacks, Ben tried to prepare himself for seeing Michael, again.

Simon came down the hallway, back toward Ben, with Gus in flight in his arms.

Brian’s son held out his arms, pretending to be a super, flying jet. He made little plane noises that made Michael giggle in merriment.

“How the hell did you know I loved kids so much?” Simon turned to face Michael.

Michael unzipped his jacket, shoving he and Gus’ gloves in his pockets. “I didn’t. I apologize, Mr. Boswell. I promised Gus’ Mommies I’d babysit this afternoon. I’m not one to shirk my responsibilities.”

“Shit! That’s good to hear. And it's *Simon*, Michael.” Simon wandered back to hand Michael Gus. He held out a hand to take Michael’s coat. “I can’t thank you enough for being willing to meet with us before the photo shoot on Thursday.”

“Well, I understand...” Michael set Gus on the floor, helping the little boy off with his own jacket. He held both items out to Simon. “... how hectic things might be. I’ve been invited to some photo shoots when my friend, Brian, was interning at his old advertising company. I know what a madhouse they are. And I’m one who wants to know everything beforehand. So I don’t look like such a doofus.” Gus was slightly shy, hanging onto Michael’s leg with his little arm, peeking from behind his thigh. Without any thought, Michael reached down to brush back Gus’ light brown locks.

Simon put up a hand to make his own point. “Plus, I wanted some of my photographers to have some preliminary shots of you to look over. Get some idea of what *theme* to use for you on your specific months.”

Michael crossed his arms over his chest, absorbing the calming nature Gus always gave him. “What exactly do you need me to do? Pose or something?” He glanced down at what he came to the studio wearing.

Simon laughed, moving over to his camera set up. He’d organized a general area of his office to have a plain backdrop of white, well lit, so he could just ask Michael to act *normal*. But the more he looked between Gus and Michael, how the child doted on the older, child-like man, he was seeing a new way to shoot Michael. From what Ben had disclosed to him, Michael’s own child hadn’t been born yet. Seeing him interact with this unknown child made an even better idea pop up in his head. “Can I ask you a personal question?” He made sure he had enough rolls of film to take as many shots as he could.

Ben cleared his throat and, pretty much, walked away in a huff, toward the huge picture windows lining one wall.

Michael hadn’t even paid Ben one second of attention, except to nod his head in his direction. “Ask away. I’ll try to be as open as possible.”

“What does fatherhood mean to you?” Simon just blurted it out, off the cusp. He didn’t expect the sudden response he got.

Oh, Shit! Simon tried quickly to load his camera as fast as he could.

Michael glanced down at Gus. He blushed, looked lovingly down at Brian’s son and tenderly caressed the little head laying on his jean-clad leg. “It’s... everything.” He choked on his emotion for Gus, which stemmed from Brian.

Simon stared at Michael, intently, not sure if he’d ever seen someone crumble so easily for him. Many people never trusted the camera, or the camera operator, to showcase true human feelings and emotions. But there were always rare moments where one could capture. The amount of vulnerability Michael was displaying was breathtaking.

Michael pulled one cuff of his sweater down so he could wipe at his eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be such a cry baby.”

Simon took a seat on his stool, finally realizing he didn’t need Michael to *pose* for anything. He might get a couple of FUN pictures between Gus and Michael, but he was being privy to the definition of what a real man should be. “Michael, it’s okay. I want you as real with me as you need to be. These photos can be very cathartic pieces once viewed. I find it comforting as a gay man, myself, that you hold a role, once only given to straight men, in such high esteem. That you would take such pride in being a father to another human being.”

“I never knew my own father.” Michael shrugged, sure that was enough of an explanation.

Simon slowly nodded his head, his finger held over the button ready to snap away. “Do you mind?” He was willing to give Michael a moment to prepare himself.

“No.” Michael let out a tiny smile of encouragement. “That’s why I’m here, Simon. I don’t know how Gus’ parents might take him being used, though. Especially his father.”

Simon glanced through his viewfinder at Michael bending down to sooth Gus worry over his emotional state. The amount of love pouring out of this man for this little boy was screaming to be photographed for posterity. “Honey, once they get a load of these stills... I’ll have them begging me to print them.”

Michael sunk to Gus’ level. “What, Gus?”

Gus leaned in to Michael to whisper in his ear.

Michael heard the click of the camera, telling him the pictures were being taken, but there was no flash. “Sure.” He hefted the lightweight child into his arms. “Is there a place where I can sit with him? We’ve been at the park all day. Being an active 4yr old can be kind of tiring.”

Simon laughed outright at the humor from Michael even after being so emotionally draining. “Take a seat over there. We can take a few candid shots of you both. Then, if you don’t mind, we’ll do a couple of crazy, silly ones that depict the stupid foolishness of enjoying childhood in your early thirties.” He frowned at the sudden idea that flowed through him. “You know, so many of my gay friends are all contemplating marriage and fatherhood. I just never held much respect for that choice. But, you... watching you with this young boy...”

“Gus.” Michael sat he and Gus down on the large square box that was placed in the center of the plain back drop.

“Seeing you with Gus... well, I can see it in your eyes how much you feel for this boy. And he’s not even your own.”

“Gus is Brian’s son.”

“Your boyfriend’s?”

Michael felt Gus’ little hand tighten it’s grip on his sweater. “Brian would never claim that role, but, in a way, yeah, I guess you could call Gus my *boyfriend's* child.”

“How long have you known one another?” Simon simply snapped as he talked. Sometimes ten in a row.

“Since junior high. We were turning fourteen.”

Simon had to catch his breath. “Wow! That long. Amazing.”

“Yes... he is.”

Simon choked on a snicker. “You’re cute, Michael.” He glanced over the camera lens. “I can see why he loves you so much.”

Michael was rubbing a soothing pattern on Gus’ back. “Gus?”

“Brian, Michael.” Simon spoke softly, but succinctly.

“You think so?” Michael dropped his eyes to stare at the floor. He was blushing again.

“God Damn!” _**He has NO IDEA to his own power**_. Simon was getting some primo feedback from Michael. His reactions to these people in his life were giving him an insight no one had given him in years. He was a photographer's dream come true. “You’re a natural in front of the camera, Michael.”

“Is that a good thing?” Michael swiped under his nose, rocking Gus in his arms.

“A very good thing.”

Gus turned his head to whisper, again, in Michael’s ear.

Michael stood up in a rush, looking about the room.

“Is everything okay, Michael?”

Ben shot off the window sill he’d been sitting on. “What’s wrong, Michael?”

“Bathroom?”

Ben sighed at the unneeded worry he had displayed.

Simon chuckled, lightly, as he pointed to another hallway behind the photo shoot set up. “End of that hallway.”

“Thanks, Simon.” Michael rushed off as quickly as his legs could  
carry him and Gus.

Gus giggled at the min-race Michael took them on. His laughter echoing down the nearly vacant corridor.

Simon hurried over to Ben, pinching the other man’s hairy forearm.

“Ow-cha! Wha-!”

“Shame on you, Benjamin Bruckner!! Do you even fuckin’ realize what you gave up?!”

“Why do you think I want him back?”

“Sha! Good luck, genius! Christ! What a heart breaker that one is.”

“Gus? He’s a cute kid.”

“Please. Don’t play ME for a fool. Not twice in row.”

“So... will you help me?”

Simon went to move a few things around so it was better placement for Gus and Michael. “Abso-fuckin’-lutely... not!! You are on your own, Ben. I’m tired of the usual rhetoric shoved down people’s throats about gay men. Michael is the new generation of homosexuals. That was my whole reason for being a part of this calendar. I’m not using it to score you a piece of ass. Or a perfect relationship.”

“He’s not just a piece of ass. And their relationship isn't so... perfect.”

“Coming from you, that's rich! And who’s fault was it that things ended with you two, again? Don’t place blame on an innocent’s shoulders, Ben. Otherwise... what the hell have you fuckin’ learned at all? The way that man reacts just by the mere mention of that little boy, Gus, and Brian... sweetie, you have some gigantic shoes to fill. And believe me, I know you can’t. And that’s not me being nasty, honey, that’s someone being honest with your sorry ass.”

Strange how one minute with Michael could conjure up old hurts between Simon and Ben. Ben wasn’t Simon’s favorite person right at the moment.

Ben sat back to watch Simon run about the room to cater to Michael’s photo shoot back drop. He couldn’t help but feel he was being selfish. Michael was a difficult man to let go of. And it was obvious what and who made him happiest.

“You still want to do the *other* calendar?”

“Fuck yeah, I do. Now more than ever.”

Ben leaned against the red brick wall. “Any candidates to fill the slot?”

Simon didn’t say one word. He thought Ben could take his silent meaning.

“No! Way! It’s still gonna be an underground S&M fantasy theme, right?”

“You betcha.”

“Simon... that’s not Michael. At all. You can see it’s not him just by watching...”

“I beg to differ, Ben. Even the quiet ones have a bit of a nasty, perverted gene built in them. How was the sex between you two?”

Ben had to swallow with difficulty, scratching his head. There were no words to describe some of those moments. “That’s a little too personal, Simon.”

“No need to say anymore. Michael’s The One.”

“The One... What?” Michael came back, Gus standing beside him. Both all smiles for the camera.

Gus had just gotten his second wind.

Simon let out a lighthearted laugh as he watched Ben grow embarrassed by his over-reaction to the conversation they’d been having while Michael was gone. “Nothing, Michael. We’ll talk about it later.” He cleared his throat, moving behind the camera lens. “You ready?”

Michael felt Gus tug on his pant leg. He murmured out the side of his mouth,. “I will, dude. Give me a few minutes.”

Simon spread his legs to steady his stance. “Is it something I can do, boys?”

Michael shook his head. “No, Gus and I were talking about some poses he’d like to do for you. They’re... uh, kind of silly... and stupid.”

“Michael, that’s what I was looking for.”

“Just wait. Hold on. Let us show you. We do this on the playground.” Michael waited for Gus to get in his *position* before he began. “I need to warn you, these really aren’t *poses*. They’re more like... uh, scenarios we act out for all of Gus’ little friends.”

Simon squinted in Michael’s direction. “You’re a writer, mostly. Am I correct?”

“Yes, I wrote Rage, if that’s what you’re askin’?”

“It’s not, but, please... do what makes you two feel most comfortable.”

“Thanks, Simon.”

“No. Thank you.” Simon almost hated being the one behind the camera. He wished he could be sitting where Ben was, simply enjoying the easy companionship of man and child.

“You ready, Gus?”

“Weady, Mikey.”

“Coolness.” Michael got on his knees, his back to Gus, who was hiding behind the square box in the center. He put his index and middle finger together, in the form of a makeshift *gun*. The *gun* was being held off to his right shoulder.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Give yourself up, Kinney! Dhere’s no way outta dhis mess!” Michael made his voice sound like a New York City Cop from the 1950s.

“Oh, yeah! You’ll ne’er git me, coppa!” Gus pretended to be a bad-ass New York City Criminal as he dropped and rolled, landing on his knees. He held out his own *gun*, making sure he blew off three rounds that hit Michael in the back.

“Ack!” Bullet One struck. Michael arched forward, dropping his "gun". “Ugh!” Second bullet punctured his lung. Michael pretended not to breath. “Ooof!” Michael clutched his chest as the third bullet landed dead center of his precious ticker. He slowly dropped face first on the ground. “You...” His hand reached out to point a *guilty* finger at Gus. “dirty... rat!” Michael coughed for good measure, losing a lot of fake, imaginary blood all over Simon’s nice white sheets.

Gus quietly walked over, holding his *gun* at the ready, in case Michael wasn’t deader than he should be. He softly kicked at Michael’s arm, laying on the ground at an awkward angle.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Gus turned to face his captive audience, waiting for the usual round of excited clapping.

Simon and Ben gave him a standing ovation.

Gus bowed as gracefully as any gentleman would. Then he decided to quickly play *Smackdown WWE* with Michael, gently landing his elbow in the middle of Michael’s back.

That caused Michael to lift all his extremities up in exaggeration, as he was still face down on the floor.

Gus sat on Michael, facing his legs and faked pulling one back like a normal pro wrestler would on television. Gus made miniature Incredible Hulk moves with his tiny biceps that were sending Simon and Ben into fits of riotous laughter.

Simon raced back to taking his pictures, nearly forgetting what they were here for.

Michael Novotny was an enigma of, not just gay men, but men in general. And Ben... was a certifiable, damn fool, but Simon already knew that.

Hot Damn! These calendars were gonna fly off the shelf.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

\--------- ****** **PHONE CONVERSATION** ****** \------------ **User: Kinney, Brian A.**  
 **As Recorded by Pittsburgh Verizon Wireless -**  
\----------- ****13:04:35pm**** \------------------- **Connect: Comics, Red Cape**

“Guess what today is?”

“My birthday?”

“No.”

“Your birthday?”

“Nope.”

“Gus’ birthday?”

“He just had one, Brian!”

“His wedding? You’re one of the groomsmen, right? Am I The Best Man? He married his best friend, didn’t he? Do I like this person? Was that non-gender specific enough?”

“Brian...”

“Gus’ graduation?

“He hasn’t even entered the first grade, yet.”

“Oh! I know. You broke down and finally bought a lottery ticket!”

“Brian.”

“A car?”

“Brian?”

“A puppy?”

“Brian!!”

“What?!?”

“You suck at this game.”

“Swing by my office, I can suck at something much better than this.”

“Never mind.”

“Come on, Michael. Ask me again.”

“No. I won’t.”

“And why not?”

“Because... I refuse to cater to your childish antics.”

“But...”

“No! I won’t!”

“You...”

“No way!!”

“Love me...”

“Just stop!! Some days you make me wonder why I do, especially moments like this.”

“You wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Yeah, you may be right, Brian, but you don’t know me THAT well.”

“Oh, yeah... I do!”

“Uh... no... you don’t!”

“I do!”

“Don’t!!”

“Do!!”

“Brian... let’s forget I ever called. Go back to work. I’ll see you at home. Don’t forget to pick up supper.”

“Ask me again.”

“Only if you promise to behave...”

“mIhmh mpromhisme.”

“Okay... I’ll bite... guess what today is?”

“Today... is the first day... of the rest of our lives together.”

“Ow-ch! Don’t even go there.”

“Alright... today is the first, and certainly not the last, day that I am capable of thinking up twenty different ways I can rip off all your clothes and fuck you into next week.”

“Brian, now you’re being mean...”

“Hold on, I got more. Today... is the first day I haven’t gone into my personal bathroom, during essential office hours, and whacked off to images of you in my mind. Like the one of you... laying sprawled on the bed last night, tangled sheets around your beautiful pale calves and thighs, completely naked and drenched in perspiration after our three hour long...”

“And beyond Cruel... past Selfish... turning a right at Inconsiderate. Damn, Brian, you just want to hear me *cum* over the phone again.”

“Michael... you’ve got untapped talent. You even made Cynthia wet her panties.”

“That reminds me, next time, warn me when you have me on speaker phone.”

“Mikey... I can’t wait for my next pseudo-anniversary surprise from you.”

“Don’t press your luck. I’m hanging up now, Brian. I can’t take the abuse.”

“Wait!! Today is...”

“Forget it. It’s okay, Brian. I *get* that you are aware of ‘What Today Is’.”

“Let me finish, Mr. Pouty.”

“Sorry, Mr. Profound.”

“Bygones. Today is... the first day that I’ve realized how empty my life would be without you.”

“Bri-...”

“Today is the first day that I can feel free and comfortable enough to admit that you becoming a permanent, integral part of my wasted life... only expands my own...”

“Fuck... now you simply want to hear me cry.”

“Nah, I’d rather cause harm to myself than see you crumble. Wait... there’s one more. Today... is the first day I don’t feel some cowardice, or fear, that would usually constrict my throat, when I desperately need to tell you that... I love you...”

“Ohhh, Briiiannn.”

“I do. I love you, Michael.”

“Damn. No fair. I wasn’t prepared.”

“That’s when the revelation works the best, when you least expect it.”

“Catch me unawares, huh?”

“Yeah, kinda nauseatingly, sickeningly sweet, ain’t I?”

“I find any kind of *Kinney* I can get my hot, little hands on is wonderful. Thank you, Brian. I know what it took out of you to say and... I’m finding so many ways to fall deeper than I ever thought I could. I love you, too.”

“Michael, you’re never obligated to repeat it back. I already know you do. You’ve been carrying the *torch* for us for far too long. Now let me carry the weight.”

“We’ll share.”

“Every so often, how about I lighten the load, Michael?”

“I can’t agree more.”

“Look, Michael... I, uh... gotta go. Seems there’s a sudden emergency brewing.”

“Why?! Wha-?”

“I need to call the police, file a report on a *burglary*... and contact a doctor at a local hospital...”

“What for?! Brian... what the fuck is wrong?!”

“You stole my heart and took my breath away...”

“BRIAN! Dear God!! I could fuckin’ beat the shit outta you!! Prick! Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that!! Bastard!”

“This is the way I’m gonna be, Mikey. Get used to it. You make me feel giddy and tingly all over.”

“Christ, who knew love would convert you over to the lame, silly, sentimental corn ball crowd.”

“I’m sorry, Mikey... but your love... it’s like the wind. Though I may not be able to SEE, I can FEEL it... even though you may not be near me...”

“Shit! You’re not gonna go all... Patrick Swayze on me, are you, Brian?”

“?”

“Brian?”

“?”

“Brian, please don’t sing for me again.”

“I’m just trying to stall time until my next pitch meeting. I’m not really happy with the approach we’ve decided to take. I’m hoping I’ll get a fuckin’ brainstorm if I try to take my mind off work.”

“You’re brilliant. You’ll figure it out.”

“You love me. You’re biased.”

“You’re mine and you’re full of shit.”

“Ugh! That’s supposed to be a compliment?”

“Look... I might be able to close the store early today. Think you can leave work sooner than you thought?”

“Awww... is all this rush to come home in my honor?”

“I, uh, haven’t seen you in... give or take, five hours. I need my *fix*.”

“Damn! I’ve got you hooked, haven’t I?”

“You knew you would. A constant craving I can never seem to appease.”

“Hell, I wouldn’t want you to, Michael. I’m happy with the way things are.”

“Lord, you don’t know what it does to me to hear that word come out of your mouth.”

“All because of you, Michael. You should have knocked some sense into my thick skull sooner than this. How come it took us so long to see?”

“Neither of us were prepared. Kept missing one another. At least we’ve been able to build some solid ground for us to stand on.”

“Shit! Cynthia’s beckoning me. I’ll have to hang up soon.”

“Say it again, Brian.”

“Uh... no! I need a few days to recoup. Lay down and rest my weary head.”

“Leaving me in the cold?”

“No one said you couldn’t curl up and lay right next to me.”

“I’ll be by your side for the rest of your miserable goddamn life. Can you handle that, Kinney?”

“I think I’m ready. I’m sure I can *take* you. You’re nothin’ but soft mush and girlie curves, anyway.”

“I can be hard when I want to.”

“I’m sure you can, Mikey. I’ve seen the *solid* evidence.”

“You made me walk right into that one. Hello? Wall?”

“You’re adorable, Michael. No one else is allowed to have you like I can.”

“So... are we *exclusive* now or what?”

“As a *couple*, you mean?”

“What do YOU want, Brian?”

“Just you is all I need.”

“And what do *I* mean to you?”

“Everything... and then some...”

“What would you refer to *me* as if you had to introduce me to some of your clients and their spouses at some party?”

“Well... you’re my partner... my companion... my equal... my confidant... my accomplice... my date... my playmate... my teammate... my supporter... my sidekick... and most of all... my very bestest friend.”

“Whew! No wonder I’m so tired all the time.”

“You’ve also become my lover... which is, by far, your most excellent work, yet. Up to par with the *best friend* thing.”

“You know what I was thinking about, today?”

“You and me... naked and wet...”

“Besides that.”

“Naked, wet and writhing in ecstasy?”

“Uhhh... Shit! I forgot where I was going with my thought. Thanks, Brian.”

“Not a problem. Anytime.”

“I guess I just... wait... no I remember... I thought about our relationship, how others see it, compared to how we view it. I suppose I’m too scared to label what we have like so many others we’ve known. I don’t think we’ve been given a good representation from all our friends. We’re kind of...”

“Unique.”

“Special.”

“No, don’t use that word. It’s misused too much in the English language. When I hear it, I expect to see a short school bus pull up in front of me.”

“How ‘bout... one of a kind? Extraordinary? Rare?”

“Still over-used, but those’ll do.”

“I can get a dictionary. There’s one on the shelf behind me.”

“I thought we were going to try NOT to define anything about our relationship.”

“Brian? I’m not helping you at all? Being on the phone with you, like this, am I?”

“Michael, you’re making me look *busy*, which is deterring Cynthia from barging into my office and pulling me out of my chair by my ears. By the way, how many calendars did you say you wanted me to pick up?”

“One’s fine. Or two. You know, in case, you want one for your office.”

“My dirty, filthy imagination’s enough for me. Besides, that calendar’s not gonna be as naughty as it should be. Kinda tame in my eyes. What would I get out of looking at quaint, pretty pictures of gay men in every day activities? It’s the raunchy fantasy calendar that *I* need for my wall.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Brian. Come on. The calendar is for a good cause. Some nice charities will reap some massive fund-age. I’m fairly excited. I think some of the shots Simon took of Gus and I were decent. At least say you’re interested in those.”

“Michael...”

“Fine. I’m not gonna force you to support my newfound modeling career.”

“I was only gonna say that I can take photos of you and Gus anytime I want. I will always be there to lend you a hand, support you in anything you wish to pursue. You never know, with me, maybe I’ll surprise you and by the store’s whole supply.”

“Lord! You don’t have to do that!”

“Okay, then... well, Cynthia has officially given me the *Evil Eye*. I think that’s my cue to wrap this up.”

“Get extra egg rolls. Oh... and A LOT of those tiny soy sauce packets. Oh... and won-tons... the fried ones!!”

“Yes, dear one. Anything else, Your Majesty?”

“Nope. You and the food will do, for now. And after we’ve eaten, let me decide what to actually do with you.”

“Shit! You are hibernatin’ one lean, mean, wild animal inside that sexy body!”

“You bring it out of me.”

“At least it’s something I can be proud of that benefits me. G’bye, Michael.”

“Hey! Don’t dawdle like you did the last time, Brian. I don’t need you to bring home candies and flowers. Remember... calendar, food and you. That’s it!!”

“Tell the truth, you liked it? Besides, how else was I supposed to make you aware of how much I love you...”

“Well, would you listen to that! That was very good, Brian. Smooth transition. I barely even saw it coming. I thought I was gonna have to wait until tomorrow.”

“See... I’m full of surprises. Rolled right off my tongue.”

“Your tongue? That reminds me...”

“Michael, you know you’re my world and I care for you, but if you have any shred of decency be aware that Cynthia’s *Evil Eye* has morphed into a silent threat to do bodily harm on me. And she’s staring at your favorite body part of mine.”

“Oh, then what the hell are you still on the phone for?! I WILL see you later!”

“God Bless you, Michael!!”

  


**~~TBC...**


	5. Chapter 5

Brian wandered out of the Chinese take-out/delivery/sit-down restaurant as he waited for his order to be prepared. He decided, to save time, he’d kill two birds with one stone. The small bookstore that had advertised selling the Liberty Avenue Men calendar was around the corner from the Chinese place. He had thought he’d be able to slip right in, pick up the damn calendars, secretly soak up a few admirers comments about Michael’s pictures and be back to get the food in twenty minutes or less. 

Dressed in his long, corduroy, dark blue overcoat, Brian pulled up the collar to ward off the blistery wind. His gray scarf was wrapped around his neck to protect his throat, but he used it to tuck his chin in as he rushed to the bookstore’s building. As he crossed the street, Brian let his eyes focus on the line that was forming from the locked front door to nearly the end of the block.

What The Fuck?

Once Brian approached the bookstore, he glanced over the sea of faces standing in line waiting for the bookstore’s doors to re-open. Uncertain of what exactly was happening, Brian tried to find an easy friendly face, to pretend to *hit* on, to get the 411.

“Excuse me, but what’s this line for?” Tucking his freezing hands into his coat pockets, Brian let out an easy smile of greeting, not usually reserved for strangers. That was Michael’s forte.

The spiked blond haired twink swiveled in a flash. Unnerved by the handsome man’s sudden attention. He gave Brian the *once-over* as he completely forgot about his two best friends. “My, my... sugar. Aren’t you the gee-orgee-ous one. Tall, dark... ready and willing, I’d say.”

Brian actually shut his eyes in shame. He used to find that kind of response charming. “Please, don’t bother. I’m not interested.” He glanced back to the two friends of the twink who seemed to be showing the same disrespect. Didn’t they know how to treat their elders?! “Sorry I interrupted your... in depth discussion panel.” Odd to find himself thinking that blatant show of neediness was, somewhat, disgusting to him now. And, a bit on the sad side. Damn. Had he ever been THAT desperate for attention?

“Brian!” A voice called out, further down the line on the sidewalk.

Emmett put his identifiable person out of line to motion for Brian. Sometimes it helped being dressed like an *eyesore*.

Brian wandered down to Emmett, completely over the twinks who were giving him nasty *looks*, instead of the *very interested* ones of two seconds ago. Hmm... how fickle some gay men were. “What’s going on?”

Brian slowed his quick pace as he realized that there were more people than just Emmett in line. Seemed like the entire *group* of their family/friends decided to show up. Ted and Emmett, Melanie and Lindsay, Rodney and Uncle Vic with Debbie straggling behind with the Lezzies.

Emmett clapped his mittened hands together. “Said on the radio that the store was gonna close down once they knew what time the shipment was being delivered. This line’s been forming ever since four o’clock.”

Brian compared how far down they were to where the line just went on and on until the end of the block. “All this... for a fuckin’ calendar?!?”

Debbie cackled with laughter. “Not just any fuckin’ calendar, Brian. Our men, of Liberty Avenue, being represented.”

Brian squinted his eyes toward Michael’s mother. “And I don’t suppose it could be that Michael is featured in the calendar, at all, could it?”

Emmett almost began to jump up and down in excitement. “I don’t know about everybody else, but that’s MY main reason for being here. Did Michael say anything about showing up here, after work?”

Brian snickered out a breath. “No. Way too awkward. Too much free publicity he doesn’t want, or need. Simon suggested to Michael, and the other models, to steer clear when this thing hit the stands. Michael did decide to close the store early, but he was going home.”

Emmett took out his cell phone, prepared to call Michael. “Well, then I’ll reach him at the apartment. Tell him what’s going on.”

“Don’t bother.” Brian added as he reached up to scratch his nose. None of these people, except one of them, knew about Michael and him becoming more than simply best friends. “Not a good idea at the moment.”

Emmett stared in befuddlement. “Why not? You just said...”

Brian cleared his throat and tried to cough out the lump lodged in his larynx. “Uh... he’s not there, Em.” He tried not to notice all the eyes staring at him. He wanted only to focus on Emmett. That was getting difficult since Ted began to fidget in the cold or from nerves.

“Well... where the fuck would he go? I thought...” Emmett held out his hands in wonder, expecting Brian to know the answer.

“Ask Brian to call him. He knows the number pretty well.” Ted spoke up as he attempted not to sound pissy.

Emmett scrunched his nose at Brian. “Why the hell would Bri-?”

“Because, Emmett, Michael has practically moved into Brian’s loft, over the last few weeks.” Ted blurted out to everyone’s shock.

Brian shook his head, sadly. “Theodore, is That Tone really necessary? There’s better ways to spill the beans.”

Emmett’s mouth stood wide open in surprise. “Where the fuck have *I* been?”

Debbie wasn't able to show her excitement anymore, but Vic couldn’t contain his happy grin.

“When the hell did this happen? And when were you gonna tell anyone else?”

Brian shut his eyes to the question thrown at him. He didn’t want to know who said it. He knew they all were thinking the same thing. “Honestly... if you want the truth, none of you ever would have known. Ted found out by accident. Michael and I have been... living together, if you will, for the better part of a month or so.”

“Why Brian?” Lindsay asked quietly.

“Why what?” Brian looked over at Lindsay with a need to understand why she wouldn’t support him in becoming happier than he’d ever been.

“Why didn’t you feel comfortable enough to tell us?”

“Because, in all seriousness, if I’m not fuckin’ ANY of you... it’s none of your fuckin’ goddamn business.”

Vic and Rodney choked out with snickers. All eyes turned on them.

Vic held up a hand. “Sorry. We’re not laughing at the situation, but, frankly, children... you too, Debbie... Brian’s right.”

Brian bit his top lip to keep from shouting a *Hallelujah*. “Thanks, Vic.”

“No problem, kiddo. Just tell me when the housewarming party is. I’ll bake you and Michael a cake.”

Brian had to chuckle at Vic’s attempt to be lighthearted at this awkward moment.

“Screw you, Vic!” Debbie replied as she scooted up closer to Melanie, trying to turn her back on Vic.

Lindsay put a gentle hand on Debbie’s shoulder. “Debbie, don’t get snippy. This is supposed to be a happy occasion. Something good for our community.”

“How is Brian and Michael shacking up good for the Liberty Avenue community?” Ted asked in confusion.

Emmett was possibly the only one, beside Vic and Rodney, who didn’t seem disturbed by Brian and Michael becoming closer. “One less *Ho* on the street... and more pickin’s for all of us other gay bachelors!” He tried to be honest. “Sorry, Brian... you know...”

Brian laughed outright, finding the comment refreshing. “It’s okay, Em. I’m not so easily hurt by the word. I still feel your *love*.”

“Well... how... unusually, kind of you to say so.” Emmett was slightly confused to be saying these words to Brian Kinney.

Silence infiltrated the usually happy-go-lucky crowd.

“I meant the calendars, Ted.” Lindsay interrupted the long pause between conversation.

“I know you did, Linds.”

“Do we have a problem, Theodore?” Brian almost stood toe-to-toe with Ted.

“Maybe. Just a little ticked that you’ve been monopolizing so much of Michael’s time. We haven’t seen him as much as we used to. I hope he hasn’t hurt himself from overworking.”

“Oh, Teddy, I make sure Mikey gets all the workout he needs.”

A commotion began at the front of the line.

Emmett began to clap his hands again. “Oh, yea! Looks like they’re opening the doors, finally!! How exciting!! I can’t wait to see what Michael’s pictures turned out to look like. You know... as much as he described them to me, I don’t think I’ll have the same reaction from actually being able to visually SEE them.”

The line began to pick up speed. Once the calendars were distributed, each person regulated to no more than three, a small line began to form off to the side, in between the bookshelf aisles. Everyone was trying to look at each month to drool, squeal or *boo* every picture of the sixteen months.

Brian let a smirk out as he looked at everyone from the side of his eyes. They all had questions they wanted to ask, in their minds, but he supposed none of them wanted to cause a scene, which was nice for a change.

Once the area of the line they were in made it into the bookstore, Brian was noticing the few people who straggled the carpeted areas, mulling through all the months to see each photograph. He saw a whole gamut of emotions; from pure lust to bawling their eyes out. But mostly there soon began this tiny rumble of a series of pictures, for the months of July and October, that, hands down, made every single gay man, and straight mother, melt with pride.

The cute dark raven haired man and the little cherub boy. That could be none other than... Michael and Gus. All everyone was doing was running over to other friends and pinpointing these particular pictures out. Some even declared they’d purchase more calendars, when they were allowed, to send off to loved ones and family members.

Brian held back his all-knowing smile. The overwhelming love and pride he felt by every word of praise he was hearing about Michael’s photographs was leaving him breathless, eager to pick up more than just the two Michael had tempted him into getting.

Damn! He had to see these pictures himself or else he’d have a heart attack right in the middle of the floor.

“Excuse me.” Brian leaned over to touch the shoulder of an unsuspecting grandmotherly type woman. She appeared slightly older than Debbie, but no less flamboyantly tacky, in every way. “I see that you have three calendars in your arms... can I see one of them?” He inclined his head to show he was a nice, sweet gentleman who would make no demands if she refused him.

“Are you a homosexual?”

Brian was slightly taken back by the outburst, feeling more like he wanted to bust out laughing, then become prissy. “What if I say I’m not? You can’t be kind to straight men?” He heard the chuckles erupt behind him, from the Peanut Gallery.

“Nope. I got me a handsome grandson, is all. If you’re free for dinner, or even just a cup of coffee, could I git you to write down your phone number?” The lady was about ready to hand all the stuff in her arms over to Brian as she searched for a pen in her luggage bag of a purse.

“Ma’am...” Brian tried not to choke in front of the strange lady who felt like *pimping* for her grandson, who probably was about as homely as a marine science nerd. He placed a hand on his chest. “I’m flattered that you’d think I was date-able material, but... I’m sorry... I’m taken.”

Brian heard some of the gasps behind him flow about.

“Oh... then forgit I said a word.” The lady reached out to pat Brian’s biceps. “I’m kind of a foundling in your world, sonny. My grandson just *came out* this past year. I’m trying to be very supportive.” She leaned over to speak in low tones from behind her hand. “His mother’s having a very hard time, though.”

"As they often do, ma'am." When she didn’t follow the endearment with a *boy* on the end *sonny*, Brian released his deep sigh and held out his hand for the calendar he was being handed. “Would you like to see him?” He realized he wasn’t clear on his question. “My boyf-... uh, my... well... he’s my best friend. Nothing will change that, but...” He found the month of July... and nearly fell face forward on the ground. His hands shook slightly as he held up the calendar for them both to see fully.

Michael’s descriptions hadn’t done them justice. Seeing Gus and Michael IN the pictures... there were just no words. Not only did Michael have the main picture for the month, but there were other pictures riddled through the empty boxes before and after the numerical dates.

“Oh, well... would you look at that little boy. You can tell he adores that man so much. What’s his name?” The lady reached out with her gnarled hands to caress the images that truly showcased the pure essence of what the idea of the new gay male of Liberty Avenue was...

He was... everyone. Just like you. He had dreams and desires, loves and losses, hopes and goals, but a little bit of living on the fringe, too.

Brian had to clear his voice, not sure if his weakened emotions might pour through. “Michael is the man... my son, Gus, is the young boy.” He sniffed once, trying not to show how much the photos meant to him.

“You’ve got yourself a nice little family there, sonny. Not all of us are so lucky.”

“Thanks. I’m just now realizing that.”

Everyone, except Uncle Vic and Rodney, wondered what *pod person* had invaded Brian Kinney.

“Sir?”

Brian didn’t realize that it had already become his turn at the counter. “Yes. I’m sorry.” He tried to snicker through his nerves. Man, oh man... not good to show this much vulnerability in front of the Fantastic Four. Mostly, he was wary of Debbie’s wrath.

The young sales clerk smiled through her usual slump at the end of the day. “How many?”

“Uh...” Brian didn’t have to think about it. What Michael wanted, Michael damn well got. “Two.” He took the plastic wrapped calendars, encircled his arm about the strange lady he befriended, steering her toward the cash registers. “Do you mind if I pay for your set as well, dear?”

“Honestly, my grandson...” The lady tried to make an excuse, but Brian wouldn’t let her.

“It would be my honor, ma’am. Come on. Think of it in celebration of your grandson’s coming out.”

“Oh... well, okay, but I don’t think...”

“That’s the beauty of being kind to strangers... not to think, right?”

The lady couldn’t help but tear up a bit as she walked to the register with Brian in tow. Her head kept turning about to look for her grandson.

Taking out his wallet, Brian paid for the five calendars. As he rifled through the money he had with him, averaging what the Chinese take-out would come to, he put down a few fifties.

The clerk raised a curious eyebrow. “What’s this for, sir?”

“I want to pay for the next customers coming to your register.” Brian was spotting Emmett, Ted, Mel and Lindsay, Debbie and Uncle Vic walking toward the front.

“This is highly uncalled for. You don’t know how many each of them are buying...”

“Whatever’s left over... keep for yourself.”

“But why...?”

“Why am I doing this?”

“Yeah.”

“Because...”

“Yeah...”

“Isn’t that enough?”

“Nope.” That didn’t stop the clerk from clutching the fifty dollar bills in her clasp.

“Sorry. It’s gonna have to be.” Brian left her with a wink and escorted his new friend out of the bookstore.

Emmett was the first to approach. “What did the cruel and unusual Kinney do this time?”

The clerk still didn’t understand what she should do. “That guy just gave me two hundred dollars to pay for all your party’s calendars.”

“Dear God... what has come over that poor boy?!” Someone from their *posse* screeched. Sounded a lot like Debbie.

“Love... plain and simple. Can see it in his eyes. It fuckin’ pours out of his body. Did you see the way he got choked up by Gus and Michael’s photos? I’d say... it’s about fuckin’ damn time!!” Uncle Vic stepped up beside Emmett so he could gather everyone’s total to help the confused sales clerk.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Michael?!”

“Yeah?”

“I’m home!!”

“No shit.”

Brian slid the huge metal door shut as he wandered in with the bag of Chinese take-out, his briefcase w/laptop, and the plain brown paper bag with the two Liberty Avenue Men calendars. “Ahhh... home sweet home. I could feel the love as I came in.”

“How was the bookstore? Crowded?” Michael yelled from the vicinity of the bed. Almost sounded like he was hefting something across the floor. He was moving back-n-forth from closet to dresser drawers.

Brian stood, transfixed by being able to see Michael’s silhouette in the bedroom, from the Plexiglas wall panels that could open and close with a slight push in either direction. What was he doing? Changing into *something* more comfortable? “Guess who I bumped into?” He put the food on the kitchen counter. The briefcase and calendars, he walked over to the dining room table. He slipped out of his shoes, picking them up and setting them on a chair.

“Drawing a blank.”

“Every-fuckin’-body we know... who didn’t know... about us.” Brian was undoing his tie, loosening the knot as he walked over the hardwood floors. He came back to the refrigerator.

One bonus with Michael living here was that there was actually edible food and drinks in the kitchen. Brian yanked out two beers, their necks in between his fingers. He flipped off their caps in the sink, because Michael hated stepping on them with his bare feet in the middle of the night when he had the *munchies*

“Shit! I’m the one that said we should wait. How did I know YOU would be the one who’d be forced to tell? Did they take it well?” Michael made another noise of labored breathing.

“I don’t think they believed me. Your mother was in her usual state of denial.” Brian put the bottles down on the table, wiping the condensation off on his pants. “Mikey... are you alright?!” He wondered if he should run to help Michael with whatever he was doing. The odd sounds coming from him made Brian wary of approaching the bedroom just yet.

“I’m fine.”

“Need me to tie your shoes? Do up a zipper or two?”

“Got ‘em! In fact, not wearing any shoes. Nothing on me has zippers.”

“Michael...” Brian teased, with his voice, for Michael to tell him the truth. “... what else are you not wearing?”

Michael slid over the floor on his socked feet. “See! I’m fine.” He stood on the top step, holding his arms out. He spun around for the full effect. “Fully clothed and everything.” All he had on was his usual soft, relaxed fit jeans and a popular comic hero t-shirt. Each had seen better days, but, darn it, if the old clothes on Michael made him look more comfortable and gorgeous as Brian had always dreamed him.

“Damn!! I knew I should have come home sooner.”

Michael jumped past the two steps, which caused Brian to make a shocked face at the unusual quick prowess. “That reminds me...” He nearly prowled across the floorboards, advancing on Brian. He grabbed the svelte torso in one feel swoop as he stood on tip-toes to press his moist lips on Brian’s open mouth. “Mmm... you always taste so good. I could feast on you for days.” Rubbing Brian’s chest wall, his fingers played down to the waist line where he tugged the shirt out of it’s tucked position. “Welcome home... honey...” Michael dipped his forehead into Brian’s jaw, suckling at the neck veins displayed for his pleasure. His fingers trailed up the naked abdomen, moving to circle the waist under the shirt.

“Uh... Michael...”

Michael nearly blew a *raspberry* on the skin as he muttered his words. “uh-huh...” He sent his tongue out, giggling at the over sensitized feelings rushing through his body. “What do you want?”

“Dear... Lord...” Brian fell forward in Michael’s grasp. “I could barely wait all day to come back to you. I thought I’d...” His shaking hands tried to reach out to hold on as tight as he could. Surprised to find that Michael had enough strength for both of them.

“Die a very slow agonizing death of sexual need.”

“How do you read me so fuckin’ well?” Brian lifted Michael easily, setting his rear on the table top. His pelvis thrust in between Michael’s thighs. His hands moved to spread them open, as best he could, to become a perfect fit.

Michael’s reactions were mind-boggling. He was undulating as if Brian was already inside of him. Writhing from a fulfilled need that Brian hadn’t even explored, yet. “Oh... My Gawd!” His head flung back in instant climax, his back arching over the glass table top. His head almost touched the clear surface.

Brian was afraid Michael would shatter the thing, if they weren’t careful. “Mikey, what’s...” His palms, on the table, on either side of Michael’s widened hips, he held himself above Michael’s torso.

Glazed deep chocolate brown eyes, dilated pupils unfocused, peered at Brian under heavy lids. Michael’s bottom lip was puffed and throbbing from his constant need to bite at it, trying to curb his orgasm in time for Brian’s arrival. His hands grabbed for Brian’s hips, forcing him even closer than he was, the nimble fingers already gunning for the belt buckle. “I need you... Brian...”

“Yeah... I can see that. Michael, I...” Brian watched Michael pull his body in alignment with his own and how oddly he began to hump his groin. “What the fuck are you on?”

Michael had never been THIS horny, immediately after he’d walked through the door at the end of a work day.

“I’m not ON anything, Brian.” Michael tried to cuddle his body to Brian’s. His hands were finding ways to secretly infiltrate underneath the clothing that was hindering his ability to touch the naked skin he craved. He nipped at Brian’s neck, scooting to the edge of the table as he felt Brian draw back a few inches. His fingers reached out to catch a button to keep Brian from moving away. “Something is... IN me, Brian.”

“Excuse me?!” Brian’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. He wasn’t sure how to take that statement. “Hold on. Don’t move.” He shook his head as he held out a palm to ward off HornyAttackMikey. He hated to admit he liked this *version*... uh, a lot, but it was way too weird. “Sit still.”

Michael rested back on his hands, swinging his legs from his sitting position. “Yes, Brian.” But he sabotaged himself in the way he forcefully swung his legs once, or twice, which caused his pelvis to gyrate against thin air. He almost sent himself into orbit and Brian was not even naked... yet.

Brian put out a hand, hovering over Michael’s jean-clad groin, around the area of the button-fly. He gently pushed once against the tender abdomen. The simple motion caused Michael to thrust once, closing his eyes and biting his lower lip. “You... little... horndog...” He couldn’t help the smile that slipped out. “And most would think *I* was the kinky one. What the fuck are you wearing, Michael?”

**~~TBC...**


	6. Chapter 6

Michael chuckled, easily lifting up his t-shirt to lower his jean’s waist. “These nifty, cool rubber/vinyl shorts and a, uh,... hmbuttghr kfplugnrj.” Michael covered his mouth from ever revealing what else he had on, underneath his normal clothes. 

“Sounded like *butt plug*.” Brian looked at Michael with a well-trained eye, not sure he heard correctly.

NO! Not His Mikey!!

“That’s funny. The box said *Anal Companion*.” Michael furrowed his brow in befuddlement as he let the waistline of the rubber shorts slap against his naked, flushed skin.

“What box? Who the fuck bought you a *butt plug*?!”

Michael was a little shocked himself. “Why can’t ***I*** buy one for myself?”

“Please. You? The one who nearly had a fuckin’ asthma attack when buying your first box of condoms. Or the day you had to return a box because they were *too small*.” Brian rolled his eyes at the remember flustered embarrassment Michael suffered through. Michael practically had to beg Brian to do his *personal* shopping from then on.

“My allergies acted up by that stupid lady’s perfume. Like she bathed in it.” Michael tried to feed Brian his usual excuse for that story.

Brian crossed his arms over his chest, wanting an explanation from Michael. “I have sexual toys and accessories of every kind, Michael. Why go out and buy...?”

“I already looked, Brian. You didn’t have what we were looking for.”

“We? Who the fuck is this *WE*?”

“Simon and Lars.”

“What the fuck are YOU, SIMON and ... uhm... wait... who is Lars?”

“The calendar photographer that took my pictures.”

“Oh-kay... why were YOU, SIMON, and LARS diggin’ in my dildo drawer?”

“Looking for a butt plug, which you didn’t have... according to Simon and Lars.”

Brian wandered away, pants undone, hands on his head. “Michael, take a breath... you’re giving me a headache.”

Michael appeared dejected and sad. “You don’t like butt plugs? What do you find offensive about them? Some are smaller than a dildo, but able to remain embedded...”

“I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation with you.” Brian swiped up his beer, by the neck, and walked over to the living room. He needed to look outside to view some sanity, for once.

“Oh...” Michael slid off the table, landing on his feet, jolting his frame into another sensitized feeling. “I gotta stop doing that to myself.” He held his belly as if it pained him, when all he was doing was holding in his prolonged orgasm. “I get it, now. *Mikey* can’t have fun ADULT toys, like Brian can, can he?”

“That’s not it!” Brian shook his head, taking a sip of his beer.

“Then... what?” Michael didn’t dare take another step, for fear he’d lose control, again, without Brian near. It just felt wrong to ejaculate, fully clothed, with Brian so far away from him. He grabbed onto the back of one of the dining room chairs.

“I guess I’m jealous.” Brian sighed heavily, turning away from the window to face Michael.

“Wow! Honesty, from you, twice in one day. Now who’s the *sick*, out-of-character, one?” Michael took a deep breath, not able to explain what was taking so long for him to wander over to where Brian stood. How fuckin’ embarrassing was this?! Could this get any worse? “Why are you jealous, Brian? Do you even want to know WHY I had to *get* the *butt plug*?”

“*Anal Companion*, you said. Somehow that’s a little more comforting to hear.”

Michael had to crack up with laughter, not showing disrespect of Brian’s true feelings, but just the way his comments were sounding. Squaring his shoulders, he journeyed over to the breakfast bar’s counter. On the marbled top was a flat package that had been delivered to the loft just today. Michael picked it up on his way over to the living room. “I’m a sexual being, too. I have needs and wants. Can’t keep me under your rock all our lives.”

Brian sighed heavily, dramatically plopping down on the huge goose-down pillows floating on the floor about the low coffee table. “I know, Michael. I’m sorry, but...”

“Simon and Lars had this idea. Actually, Simon mentioned to me you were the catalyst for this thought coming to fruition.” Michael slunk over to the opposite side of the coffee table, handing Brian the oblong package. He pulled up a similar goose-down pillow to gently place his sensitive backside down on. Damn! He couldn’t even wiggle around to pull the pillow seat up to the table.

“Me? Hard to fathom I could induce anyone into one ounce of creative thought.”

“Rage is YOU, Brian. That’s a pretty hefty creative inspiration right there.”

“You’re the exception, Michael.” Brian looked down at the floor, unsure of what he was really unsettled about. “I guess I’m also a little upset that you would try something new with other people.”

“I didn’t *try* anything with them in the room, Brian. They needed me to *act* a certain way for some photos, so I did my best. My best was worth shit, so Lars thought I needed to relax more. HIS suggestion was a colonic. Would you have rather me have gone through that?”

Brian rubbed the heels of his hands over his aching eyes. He knew he was being ridiculous, playing the heavy handed jealous *boyfriend*. “No. Go on. Sounds like there’s more that went on than you actually told me.”

“Well, I was sworn to secrecy for this next part of my photography session. Actually, it’s what’s inside that package. And it’s especially for you.”

“Me? What’d I do?”

Michael leaned over the coffee table surface, gazing lovingly at Brian. The low lights of the living room, coupled with the bright lights of The Pitts, created an interesting *glow* about Brian’s features, highlighting his best parts. “For being... you know... you.”

Brian played with the package using the tips of his fingers, swishing it from side to side. “That’s a pretty lame excuse, Michael.” WAS he gonna open it, was he NOT gonna open it?? He was tickled by Michael’s rolling eyes, the pretend snooze of boredom and the fainting backwards onto the pillow he was sitting on.

Michael should have landed in a more gentle way. His anus tightened with pleasure as he moaned out his response. He crisscrossed his arms over his chest trying to perform every religious blessing he recalled to save him from his sinful self. “Christ! Brian!! Open the damn thing before I force myself into a solo orgasm.”

Brian couldn’t help but laugh out loud at how quirky and adorable Michael could be, alleviating his weak anger and frustrations. Picking up the Fed Ex envelope, Brian noticed that someone, possibly Michael, had already slit the side open, for easy access. He mushroomed the cardboard to peek inside. His brow crinkled in wonder. What in the world? “Michael, I bought you two already. If Simon was gonna send you one, for free, you should have...” As he pulled the calender out, Brian began to see that it wasn’t much like the ones that were on the shelves at every store willing to sell to their own neighborhoods. “Uh-oh... something tells me... this ain’t our Gran’Pappy’s Liberty Avenue.”

“Shit!” Michael felt a desperate need to vacate the premises. “I think I’m getting hungry. My stomach just growled.” Fearing even getting up on his own, Michael slid his pillow across the hardwood floor, with his socked feet pushing him, toward the dining room table. He was becoming slightly embarrassed by what Brian would think of the pictures.

Would Brian even be able to tell it was him at all?! That would be the true test.

“Michael! Quit being so fidgety, you’ll make yourself cum.”

Michael stopped in the middle of the floor, halfway between the dining room and kitchen. “I’m afraid to move. Is it possible for your anus to have a *swallowing* mechanism? Much like the throat?”

Brian didn’t know what to be disturbed by more with; Michael or the calendar he was looking through? “Michael...” He made his voice sound very similar to a parent scolding a child.

“Yes?” Michael folded his hands over his tummy like a nice Catholic boy.

“Get over here.”

“But... I’m closer to the food.”

“Stop thinking about your damn stomach and get your sweet, tight, hot ass over here, before I....”

Michael turned his pillow around so the top of his head was facing Brian as he scooted over the flooring toward him. “Okay, okay, okay... Jeez, don’t have a massive coronary!” He landed on the left side of Brian, looking up at him with his fluttering puppy dog eyes. “Yes, my dearest.”

“Don’t play FluffyCuteMikey with me! Explain what I’m looking at.” Brian had opened the calendar to the month of March.

For St Patrick’s Day, everyone in the picture was in green, in celebration. Except they weren’t really *celebrating* like normal people should. And no one was dressed like regular, everyday people would. There wasn’t even a leprechaun, a blarney stone or arcs of colorful rainbows with pots o’ gold at the end, in sight. Looked like plenty of Irish whiskey had been passed about and a major amount of strategically placed four-leaf clovers hid some of the naughty bits NOT encased in what little clothing they had chosen to wear.

“Uh... it’s green leather, or vinyl,... for St. Patty’s Day.”

“Michael... there’s isn’t a green beer chugger to speak of. What kind of twisted calendar is this?!” Brian didn’t dare admit how horny he was getting from one person who dominated the pictures.

“Your... One Fuck Fantasy...”

“Pardon me?”

“You heard me. Simon said...”

“Do you even hear yourself, Michael? You don’t make any sense.”

“It‘s because you’re NOT listening to me.”

“I am”

“Not!”

Brian let his head fall onto the coffee table surface. “Oh, Dear God,... kill me... now!”

“Brian...” Michael reached up to pull on Brian’s pant leg. His fingers already hitching up the material to smooth against the dark hairs on Brian’s calf muscle. He slowly peeled off one silk sock, he had to reach under the coffee table to get the other. “Who do YOU think is in charge of everyone’s One Fuck Fantasy?” Michael returned to his pillow, laying on his back. He sent his hand trailing up further toward Brian’s undone belt and zipper, rubbing at the growing hard-on underneath.

Suddenly, Brian sprang back to life. Placing the calendar directly in front of him, he began at December and backtracked all the way to the front. His throat caught at every image.

No wonder the ONE person Brian picked out, in every picture, turned him on.

Michael was the One Fuck Fantasy. He may have dominated the other *lovers/couples* into demonstrating every dirty S&M fantasy know to the fetish culture, but he never once got *into* the actual sexual acts.

Brian was trying to wrap his mind, and his deepening hazel eyes, around the fact of what these images brought forward, most importantly, for him. Whatever Michael was wearing, whatever pose they had him perform... they always seemed to make the camera catch Michael’s well-endowed package.

“Whoa!” Michael never saw the drive-by tackle, by Brian, coming at him. He almost slid in the other direction when he found his innocent person pounced upon.

Brian straddled Michael’s body, trapping the loose limbs to the soft down feathered pillow. “I know I’m a college graduate, own my own business...” He rocked his pelvis against Michael’s, which caused him to ache anew, with a soft purr. “... but I don’t get why *One Fuck Fantasy* is meant for me. I swear, Michael, I’m not screwing around on you.” He quickly tried to unbutton Michael’s jeans, sneaking in for one or two pecks on the cheek, tracing a wet path with his tongue along the square jaw line, down the neck and over the sculpt of the collarbone.

Michael panted once, then cried out in agony from the pure torture Brian’s thrusting was causing him. “Simon understood what YOU said to him at Babylon.” He tried to inhale a strong breath of courage, but wasn’t able to. He was completely shuddering in Brian’s arms. “When he began thinking about it more... it made perfect sense. Simon told me it could stand for *monogamy*.” Michael tried to lift his head to bite and nip at Brian’s face and neck. “The new and improved *millennium* generation version.”

Brian hissed at Michael and made the sign of a cheap cross with his index fingers. *Monogamy* was Brian’ death word... like *boyfriend* was.

Michael had never laughed during a building orgasm. It felt really weird and invigorating. “I know!! I know!! I just said a bad word. But listen,... he actually made sense.”

Brian wrapped Michael’s arms up and around his neck, drawing under to cup his back, pulling him flush with his chest. “Please... I’m waiting with baited breath.”

Michael smacked his lips on Brian’s chin, licking a trail down close to the dangling ear lobe. “You love me, right? Like I love you?”

Brian couldn’t speak for all the attention he paid to Michael’s steadily undressing body. Next came the lifting of the t-shirt over his head. All Brian could do was nod his head in agreement and grunt.

“And upon that vow of love... you promised to dedicate yourself to only ME.” Michael chose to thrust back, challenging Brian to increase the pressure. He could withstand anything. “Which benefits the *US*, right?”

“Yeah.” Brian wished Michel would make his point so they could move on to fucking.

“And we can have some pretty raunchy, dirty, nasty-as-we-wanna-be sex, am I wrong? We change it up in the bedroom enough NOT to get bored?”

Brian paused for a second, staring down at Michael’s pure, radiating beauty. He combed a hand through Michael’s hair, pushing back the dark curls from his moist forehead. “Yeah. Some of *The Best* sex I’ve ever had.”

“You’re welcome. So... okay, here it goes... *One Fuck*... is the *monogamy* part... and the *Fantasy* stands for all those dreams, day and night, that you had of me. You know... the ones you don’t ever want to admit to having.” Michael grinned sheepishly, sending a *wink* up to Brian’s already smiling face. “*I*, Michael Novotny... am Brian Kinney’s One Fuck Fantasy.”

“Oh.” Brian thought that was a very nice, sweet analogy.

Michael wasn’t all too certain Brian took his word as bond. He didn’t know how to read Brian’s non-response, with the intense staring he was doing on his facial features. Brian seemed to be drinking in every inch of skin and bone to recall in his foggy mind, for his dreams later. “But it can also mean what you said, too. The old *One Night Stand* thing.” He thought, at the very least, Brian would be appreciative of the way the calendar was a composite of every twisted fantasy that could have been a part of in his younger days. “Are you pissed at me? You *hate* the calendar?”

“I can’t hate something you were a part of... and put your whole heart into. All for me. I’m, strangely, honored. And I’m not pissed at you. I’m angry at myself for not realizing how nasty you are, just like me.”

“Two peas in a pod.”

“Michael...”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up... and fuck me.” Brian managed to reach under, tenderly smacking Michael’s sore bottom.

The suffering came later, by only seconds, when that same hand spanked Michael, once more, but was a tad bit rougher. “Now THAT... is an offer I can’t...”

Brian shut Michael up the only way he knew how, leaving him breathless with excitement at his growing climax, again. Soon, Michael was only clothed in the vinyl shorts. His flesh was covered in goose bumps that were overly sensitized. All Brian had to do was touch Michael, blow on him or simply move them in one direction and Michael would moan, gasping, in pleasure.

There were some benefits to the butt plug Michael was wearing.

Since the first time they fucked, Brian had always felt his own orgasm reaching a higher plane right along with Michael’s. The more intense for Michael, Brian was sure he’d hit maximum capacity overload. This time was no different.

Only, Brian was still fairly clothed.

Michael grew a little concerned on that front, willing to help advance the point Brian would reach full nakedness.

Brian’s shirt was torn open, the buttons having flown across the floor. His belt undone and laying on the pillow. His suit pants were undone and the zipper down, while Michael’s hands were tucking themselves inside the tight boxer briefs. He took Brian in his hand and began to soothe the heated skin. The tip was covered in pre-cum, which told Michael, pretty soon, Brian would explode into little tiny pieces if he played his cards right.

Darting his tongue into Brian’s mouth, Michael groaned out his next question. “Do you have condoms with you?”

“In my pant’s pocket.” Brian realized how slutty that sounded. He felt obligated to explain himself. “I have them in case I’m out... and you show up unexpected. I can’t have you refuse me when I’m as horny as I am now. God Damn... Michael!” He sucked in a harsh breath as Michael continued to rub and squeeze to his heart’s content on his throbbing cock. “How exactly... do we free you from your rubberized *cage*?” He tried to feel for a zipper on the vinyl shorts, but discovered he’d need helpful instructions from Michael.

“On the right hip. There’s a side clasp holding me... all... in there.” Michael expertly flipped them. This time he was holding Brian down to the ground. He peeled off Brian’s pants, one leg at a time. The underwear came next, each piece of clothing thrown in the air to land... wherever...

When Brian searched, found the clasp, undid the mechanism, his eyes widened even more when Michael was finally released.

The slow release of air Michael let go of nearly shook the room.

Michael sucked in a harsh breath, sending a hand down his chest at the delicate pin-pricks that charged over his body from the cool room air hitting his rock-hard dick. He reached out for Brian’s hands to lay them over his protruding nipples, showing him what he wanted done to his available body. Keeping one of Brian’s hands in his own, Michael suckled at a few fingers as he undulated on top of Brian’s thickening, hot, wet cock. “Put the condom on me, Brian.”

This Michael was a little frightening for Brian to watch. He knew Michael was a sexual being, but he’d kept that sexuality hidden for so many years. These moments with Michael made it seem like he was trying to play catch up for all that had been lost.

Were ALL of Michael’s boyfriends, truly, THAT boring in bed?

Michael was born to *play* in and out of the bedroom.

“What about lube, Michael?” The more Brian watched Michael and noticed how large Michael's cock had become... he wasn’t sure, to be on the safe side, if they shouldn’t pause to break for a trip to get lube.

It was only in the bedroom.

For a split instance, HornyMichael growled, hungrily, at having the sexual play be disrupted. But then, it was like the QuietMichael was still in there, excited about having sex with his boyfriend and totally willing to do anything for the man he loved. “Don’t go anywhere...”

Brian lay back, arms over his eyes, unsure if Michael’s penetration might, or might not, be painful tonight. Somehow though, as he swallowed his next breath, he figured accepting the outcome of this night would assuage him of all the guilt over the abundance of heartbreak, and heartache, he’d given to Michael. Silly way to think of it, but then again, who said this was like a conventional relationship.

Two minutes later, Michael was back. Playful and not showing that scary animal lust.

Brian felt Michael’s fingers gently enter to prepare him. His dick moved in anticipation.

Michael placed a tender kiss on the engorged member, lapping at the tip and licking a straight line down to the dark bush of pubic hair it rested in.

Brian reached out for Michael’s biceps, wanting him to stop servicing him like everyone else would have. That wasn’t what THEY were about.

They were about connecting... the instant bond... the electrical current that usual ran through them when they were together. THAT was enough to sustain both men. Horny or not.

Michael threw his leg over Brian, aligning their bodies as he crawled up the lithe frame underneath him. He marveled at the perfection displayed, soaking up every ounce of naked flesh with a thin layer of perspiration. He would never tire of this beautiful masterpiece of Brian’s well-toned, muscular body.

Brian untucked one leg from under Michael, lifting up to wrap it around Michael’s hip. This raised him off the pillow to allow for entrance.

Michael had put on the condom while he’d searched for the lube. He was just at the cusp of Brian’s opening. He felt the palm hit him mid-chest. “Wha-?” He’d been so focused on one ending to this situation, that he almost forgot to *think* about what he’d be doing to Brian. “Shit!” He was ashamed by his selfish dismissal of Brian’s feelings. “Tell me...” His shaking hand reached out to caress Brian’s cheek.

Brian sent one eyebrow up, his eyes filling with some unknown liquid. He couldn’t tell if it was tears or simply a emotional reaction to the moment. He gulped down an intake of air. “Gentle...” He pressed his face into Michael’s soft hand.

Michael nearly crumbled in sobs as he dipped his head toward Brian’s face, rubbing noses with him and pressing butterfly kisses all over the sensitized skin. “Always... for you...”

Michael matched arms and hands with Brian’s, entwining their fingers. He thrust only one time sending them both in spasms of pleasure. Their hot breaths mingled and their bodies pulsed as one.

“Oh... God! Brian!” Michael tried to breathe as best he could without stealing the inch of air between him and Brian. “You feel so.... so.... soooooo goooood!!”

“Mikey...” Brian’s face winced at the sting he did feel on initial penetration, but as Michael slowly pulled in and out... the erotic sensations outweighed the pain. The way Michael never broke the joining of their other body parts, eased him through the process towards climax. “Harder...” That was all he was able to get out between harsh pants.

Michael’s brow worried in distress. “Are you sure?”

“Christ... yes!” Brian let his hands trail down Michael’s flanks, resting over the perfect globes of his ass, pushing on the pliable flesh.

One finger traced a single line down Michael’s crack to find the end of the sexual toy still embedded inside of him. Strangely enough, Brian knew what he was doing to himself, and Michael, willing to succumb to the psychotic passion they both shared for one another.

Except Brian had no idea to the shape or style of *butt plug* Michael had been given, or bought on his own. Little did he know the thing had ridges, a total of three, so that at every tug a ripple effect would send Michael into a complete bedlam of ecstasy.

Michael let out the most deep-wrenching guttural groan of pleasure as the sexual toy exited his body. He tucked Brian to his chest rolling them onto the floor, Brian, literally, sitting on his solid manhood. “Ride me, Brian. Ride me... and don’t ever stop.” He was doing his own thrusting from below.

Brian did as his lover bid him... and never once did Brian let Michael go... no matter how many times they pushed and pulled one another, overcome with the intense sexual desires being fulfilled this very minute of time.

Their shared, multiple orgasms echoed throughout the empty loft space, causing a few ceramic dishes and glassware to rattle from the sonic boom.

Even after their four climaxes, in succession, there were plenty of mini-orgasms that still rocked through them as they remained connected... in so many more ways than simply one.

Completely satiated with each other, Brian rested his body on top of Michael's. The deep breaths they were taking, in and out of their lungs, blended in a slow rhythm.

Brian stared down at Michael, smoothing back the dark hair, sniffling at his stupid emotions.

"Don't..."

"Michael, I..."

"Don't cover what you feel... for me... just let go."

Brian couldn't look directly at Michael's eyes anymore. He shuffled down to tuck his head under Michael's chin, over his erratically beating heart. Closing his eyes and letting out the deepest, most content sigh he'd ever released, Brian licked his lips to respond. "Thank you... for loving me even when I couldn't do so, for myself."

Michael kissed the top of Brian's head, leaning his cheek on the moist mahogany hair. "My pleasure."

"I love you, Michael."

"That's three times in one day, Brian. Does your head hurt? Do you need an aspirin?"

"All I need... is right here in my arms."  
 **  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~THE END... sort of...**


	7. EPILOGUE

** Epilogue : The Aftermath **

Michael had been dozing for more then an hour. He was laying face down on one of the two over-sized, down goose-feathered pillows that had been pushed together to make a semi-bed for them on the living room floor. He was dead to the world, and would remain so for much longer. The left side of his face was buried deeply into the cushioning, left arm up over and akimbo on the hardwood floor, the right arm curled and tucked to his body like a little kid asleep. He was positioned behind Brian, not on purpose.

They had brought over two of Michael’s couch throws to use as blankets, covering up their bodies when they lay together cuddled around one another. But now that Brian had woken up, he took one, wrapping it around his naked form, leaving Michael with the other as he tucked it around the sore, weary body. He placed a tender kiss under Michael exposed ear, inhaling the familiar warm, musky scent that usually eased him into slumber.

Brian was sitting up, on the second pillow seat, after having fallen asleep in Michael’s arms, content with his awkward position. As usual there were certain times, during the wee morning hours, when he wouldn’t snooze for any length of time. Waking himself up, insomnia rushing through him. Before he could never pinpoint it, sometimes Brian excused the weird behavior as his continual response to always being on the alert when he was a child to every sound and noise that went on in the house. Like he couldn’t seem to kick the habit.

Since Michael gradually moved in, those days were dwindling down to nil.

Brian only supposed tonight became the exception because he’d already had four good nights of complete rest, bound to slip up soon. But more then likely, Brian was pretty much sold on the idea that *bottoming* for Michael, tonight, had place him on a emotionally vulnerable level of discomfort where someone he loved to death could hurt him. These moments brought back too many flashes of his wasteland of a childhood.

Brian knew all the time it was Michael, but his mind couldn’t seem to grasp being able to resettle his emotional state to rights come morning. No matter how many times Michael gave him the space to feel and work things out, he still never bounced back like everything was hunky-dory. Michael always made him know he was safe enough to express what he was going through, even when it sounded lame, confusing or stupid.

Nearly a half-hour into his insomnia, Brian had rolled off the pillow, removing his body from Michael’s proximity. He tucked the couch throw about his trim waist as he made his way over to the dining table to grab his laptop. He had decided to keep busy during these wakeful hours.

As Brian waited for his system to boot up, running on battery power, he took a more leisurely perusal of the two different calendars. Strange to find his mind desperately wanting to view the photographs of Michael and Gus more then the entire calendar of Michael’s solo foray into sadism.

Brian found he got more out of looking at his ready-made family, then dirty pictures of Michael. The real Michael was always more attractive, alluring and mind-blowing in the flesh then in fantasy, anyway. Something so breathtaking, and undeniably sexy about Michael parenting Gus. Maybe because Michael’s form of *fathering* took on a different meaning then his own idea of what that word defined. The pictures showed Brian how close Gus was to Michael, which amazed him more and more. He knew Michael helped out with his son, for Lindsay and Melanie on occasion, but he had no idea to the depths of the easy, unconditional affection for Gus.

Brian could barely find the words, or catch his next breath, from the quiet, subtle beauty of a man and child. Looking at Michael, at these moments, uncluttered by useless advice and constant nagging of how to act toward a child, made Brian desire to become a much better father then he was. Or, at the very least, surpass Jack Kinney in every way possible, which wasn’t difficult.

Brian leaned back, along the pillow, resting his head on Michael’s lower back to gaze up at the back of that raven hair. He already knew Michael was gonna be an awesome father to his own child. The more Brian let his mind wander, to any thoughts on that particular subject, the more one image alone stood out.

Long, soft, ebony ringlets around a pale cherub set of girlish features, with pink, rosebud pouty lips and the deepest, chocolate-y puppy dogs eyes to drown in. Every inch of that child, a daughter, would scream of her *Daddy’s* adorable genes. All those same memorable characteristics that Brian had grown to fall in love with since he was fourteen. She’d be a heart-breaker the minute she was born. He didn’t even want to think about how he would react the first second those rich brown eyes would lock onto his face.

Brian felt his throat constrict, growing dry. He pushed himself up, picked up the empty Fed Ex envelope to throw away on the way to the fridge for a bottle of water. As he tossed the flimsy cardboard in the trash, he heard something fall out, settling on the other garbage. He paused, not sure he was just hearing things, got his water, then came back to the trash bin. The envelope was laying at an angle, a thin, clear plastic CD case tipped out. There was nothing truly gross the case had landed on, but Brian ran it under the sink faucet, just to be safe.

As Brian brought the case right side up, he noticed the logo of a reputable media company and the personal message inscribed with black ink on the shiny surface. It wasn’t a *burned* music CD, like he initially thought, but a DVD-R/RW. Approximately twenty minutes worth of footage. The written message simply stated, “FOR B. KINNEY.”

Brian knew it had something to do with Michael, but what was entailed on the disc was what drove him crazy.

Brian set the DVD disc and his water on the coffee table, for the moment. His wild curiosity made him antsy. He needed to work off some of his agitation, and the leftover passion from the intense sex with Michael. Brian knew if he went right into viewing the disc, he wouldn’t appreciate whatever was on it.

So... Brian decided to clean the living room. He started by gathering all the discarded clothing, piece by piece. He had to make several circles about the room to make sure he got everything. He set the pile in one area of the flooring. There was a little desk trash bin off of his semi-office area that he dragged over. Using several layers of Kleenex, Brian scooped up the pile of used condoms. His eyes flashed at the number that had actually been opened, at least more then four. He also found where Michael’s new sex toy had rolled to. Was it bad etiquette to throw this thing in the dishwasher, in it’s own cycle of cleaning? He figured he’d let Michael decide it’s fate, so he just pulled out more Kleenex to wrap up the plug and lay it on the kitchen counter.

Brian reached down to pick up the bundle of dirty clothing, to carry it into the bedroom. There was a newly acquired area of canvas laundry bins that Michael had brought in when he had completely moved into the loft. Suddenly Brian was beginning to learn that there were actual rules to washing clothes. Some rumor about separation; under things, pants, and shirts; then some mention of colors; whites, mediums, and darks... when it came to a few things about fabrics; cottons and delicates... Brian tuned Michael out.

All Brian knew was that when his clothes got dirty, his house cleaner took them to be laundered. When she came back the next time... Wha-La!!... he had clean clothes in his closets and drawers.

The very first day Michael met Brian’s house cleaner, he fired her. He couldn’t believe Brian had actually given a set of keys to this untrustworthy, filthy potty-mouthed woman. What Brian couldn’t believe was Michael’s instant decision to do something that drastic without discussing the outcome with him. And what Michael failed to tell Brian was how unbelievably nasty the woman was about the people who employed her, especially Brian.

Flustered and upset, Brian was unable to be swayed from Michael’s insistence that they’d find a way to fix this. Michael vowed to spend whatever hours he had to spare to replace the maid. Even offering to clean the loft himself. Most of all, though, Michael wanted to make it up to Brian for stepping beyond boundaries he didn’t know existed.

Brian let it go that night, but Michael still felt terrible.

As Brian was recalling what he found the next afternoon, when he came home from work, he began to separate the different clothing into the laundry bins by force of habit. He chuckled to himself to have become this fuckin’ domesticated in a matter of one month... but it was the smile on his lips when he remember what Michael had done to replace his house cleaner of five years, that left Brian in stitches... and loving Michael even more then the first time they’d met...

************ **FLASHBACK** ***************  
 **  
Brian used his keys to unlock the huge metal door, slid it open with one hand as he wearily stepped inside to punch out the security code. He knew he’d be here alone for another hour, since Michael usually waited until the last customer was gone before he closed up and counted out the registers. He sighed, deeply wishing that Michael didn’t feel so obligated to please everyone else.**

 **Brian would fully admit to being selfish, in this instance. Michael was now a major part of his life, a part of his every day activity... and he couldn’t get enough of him.**

 **He threw his keys and briefcase on his desk top, shucking off his long coat to lay it on the chair. He was on his way toward the fridge to get the obligatory beer, when he noticed a ladder propped along one of the walls in between a set of the large loft windows. It wasn’t fear that set in him that this strange man on the rungs had NO *spotter* to help him, but that he was dressed like a Babylon Go-Go boy.**

 **What... The... Fuck? Was Michael testing him? Was this going to be his downfall?**

 **The man hadn’t noticed Brian’s entrance since he was wearing a pair of earphones connected to a CD player attached to his right hip. He wore thick, tan suede steel-toed boots with gray floppy socks that bunched around his well-toned ankles. Pale peaches-n-cream skin from calf to well-above the bend in the thigh was exposed. The perfect globes of his ass were shown in very short, short, ripped jeans that were worn through the material and that rounded backside jiggled to some beat coming out of the earphones on his head. He was trying to adjust the rod of sheer curtains, semi-singing to the music he was listening to. His arms were raised above his dark head, which lifted the hem of his barely-there, cropped Tank-top.**

 **The sculpted muscles and the compact frame reminded Brian too much of Michael. He had to look away, but he wasn’t going to be inconsiderate and not come over to help, if he could. Plus it would be very rude to NOT introduce himself. The closer Brian approached, the more hard he became. His heart almost hurt from the karmic betrayal his body was sending through him.**

 **Brian stood at the bottom of the ladder, finding the view a bit more pleasing at this level, as he had a perfect shot of the man’s total package. He shook the ladder slightly, to make the man aware someone was home. “Can I lend you a... uh, hand...?”**

 **The earphones flew off the head as the, supposedly, strange man, turned to face his admirer. “Hey... sexy.” The wink sent down to him was... quiet uncalled for by a new, unknown employee.**

 **Brian gripped the ladder sides in complete shock and dismay. “MICHAEL?!? What are you...?”**

 **“What am I doing home so early? Well, I got to thinking...” Michael turned back around to start climbing down the rungs. “I felt kinda bad for firing your maid. I was pretty certain I would never be able to find a person who could do a better job, the way I want it... so you know... here I am...” As he reached the bottom portion, he realized that Brian never once moved. Michael was trapped in Brian’s arms. “Brian...” He gazed over his shoulder to Brian’s quick, close up perusal of his outfit. “Laundry day, you know. Had to wear whatever I found clean...”**

 **“Remind me to hide your normal clothes, every so often.” Brian swooped up Michael in his arms. He made a short journey into the bedroom, throwing Michael down on the mattress.**

 **“Whoa!” Michael never had time to get himself together. At least he got to take off his CD player and earphones. “How was your day at work?” He snickered at the prowling Brian coming at him across the perfectly made bed. His weak palm to ward off Brian’s crawl toward him was basically just a tease.**

 **“Uneventful. Yours?” Brian hovered over Michael’s torso, staring down at him in complete and utter sexual need.**

 **“Oh... you know... long and slow...” Michael rested his head back on the set of neatly piled pillows, reaching up to draw Brian closer between his widening thighs.**

 **“Hmmm...” Brian dipped to nuzzle Michael’s neck and shoulder crevice as he pondered the words. “That gives me some very good ideas...”**

 **“So... I guess I’m forgiven...” Michael knew it was a moot point right about now.**

 **“About?” Brian muttered between licks and kisses.**

 **“Exactly. Never mind.” Michael quickly untucked Brian’s shirt and delved his hands over the warm skin underneath...**

***************** **END FLASHBACK** **********************

  
Brian rubbed a wayward hand along his abdomen and trailed over his upper chest as if he could feel Michael’s touch even when they weren’t near. He looked down at his other hand to see that he had Michael’s vinyl shorts in his grasp.

According to the rules of laundry... these poor things had no chance. Yet another thing to check with Michael about.

Shaking his head at the changes he was very willing to make in his life, simply to have Michael in it, stumped Brian to no end. Stupid, foolish words he’d claimed would make him the bad-ass bad boy that no one loved, or wanted, which he wanted to take back now. He didn’t want to appear like a chump. Somehow, with Michael, those kind of compromises to be happy, didn’t seem lame or trite, like he would have thought.

Brian strolled over to their shared dresser and pulled out some undershorts/boxers. He put on the pair he liked and decided to carry the other pair over to where Michael still lay, sleeping like a baby on the pillows. He unraveled the throw from his waist and carried it over his shoulder. He was now ready to view this DVD.

Brian took his position back on the second pillow, brought over his water and the DVD. He dug in his briefcase to find his mini-earplugs so he wouldn’t disturb Michael. He set the blanket to cover his body as he watched what was on the disc. He clicked open his CD-ROM slot, placing the disc in the required niche. Closing the drawer, he waited for his automatic media player to pick up the contents. He lay back, again, resting his head on Michael’s curved lower back. The throw went completely around his still naked torso as he tucked into his own body for warmth, but tried to soak up Michael’s from this awkward angle.

The laptop’s monitor went completely blank.

Damn! What could twenty minutes of this footage do to Brian?

  
****************** **DVD CONTENTS** ***********************

Lettering scrolled over the black screen... ONE FUCK FANTASY...

 **(** _George Michael’s **FREEEK!!** played as the backdrop music in every cut/edited scene_ **)**

Next came up recorded footage of the clothing designer making Michael try on different outfits until the one they pretty much became secured on. Then it was the tiring process of setting up each photo shoot background, getting all the models together, then finding where Michael would be placed.

The tedious work seemed less about passion and sexual desire... cluing in on more of a still performance. It was about as erotically charged as a proctologist’s visit. Someone had caught Michael, off camera, rolling his eyes and trying to get motivated to place himself in the pictures. He did goofy things with his outfit, picking the  
seam out of his butt and wandering around trying to *become* some S&M master. They also cut some of what Michael and the rest of the models and crew said off sides when the camera wasn’t taking pictures.

At one point, some genius gave Michael a whip... and that became his favorite toy of the shoots.

Strange how Michael, the nervous one, made everyone feel more comfortable and friendly with one another. There wasn’t a moment NOT filled with riotous laughter.

*************************************************************

  
It was truly quite comical to watch. Brian spit out his water a few times.

But the scenes that made him sit still... the ones that made him take stock of his important vital signs, like breathing and heart rate... was the secret footage shot of Gus and Michael playing around in between their shoots.

  
******************** **DVD CONTENTS** *************************

Michael never failed to try to make Gus feel more easy at standing like a frozen Popsicle with some goofy grin or pose. He was adorable. He always found ways to hug, cuddle and press a million kisses on Gus’ face and neck. Every so often, blowing a *raspberry* on his belly.

There were a few solo shots done of Gus, which made him look stiff and uninterested. He kept looking at Michael, who was standing off to the side. The cameraman tried to make Gus focus. Didn't help a bit.

So Michael made the moment more laid back by sitting below the camera line and pretending like his finger was gonna come near Gus’ face. Pick his nose or something equally as disgusting. Gus tried his best to NOT laugh, which caused him to hold back tears of joy, but it made him remain sitting to look at the lens.

No one but Michael knew how to treat Gus.

************************************************************

  
Brian had to sit back up. He wanted a closer look at their interaction. He was never able to see them together without being there. He supposed Michael tended to become slightly more reserved for his benefit. This would be a rare moment of insight that Brian would never be able to view.

  
*********************** **DVD CONTENTS** *********************

There was a major stock of film of one particular set with Michael and Gus. They were both dressed in a suit and tie. They played off one another like professional models. They had their moody *model* poses, but then their whimsical, campy ones far outweighed the others. 

At one point, the camera filming this footage had focused on Gus and Michael during downtime from the shoots.

Michael was sitting on a large square box, Gus in between his legs, his arms wrapped around Gus’ torso as he drew the boy to his chest. Michael simply rested his cheek on top of Gus’ mop of dark brown hair and rocked him to some rhythm he began to hum under his breath.

Gus shut his eyes and latched onto Michael’s arms around him. He was sinking into Michael’s easy comfort.

**********************************************************

  
That one shot of them, off camera, not in the calendar, took his breath away. Brian bit at his thumb, his usual nervous reaction to a unnerving moment.

The tears began to cloud his hazel eyes.

Brian wasn’t sure he should view the rest of this. He was barely at twelve minutes.

How much more could he take?

  
***************** **DVD CONTENTS** *************************

Whomever was filming, with the digital video camera, had asked a question.

Gus was lost in his own little head.

Michael bent to repeat the question directly into Gus’ ear.

Gus leaned his temple close to Michael’s jaw to hear.

“He asked what do you think of your *Daddy*?”

Gus looked over at Michael. “You?”

Michael released a chuckle. “No, pum’kin... not me.” He rubbed at Gus’ tiny biceps. “Your... real Daddy.”

“Oh...” Gus looked kind of confused, his brow wrinkling, as he thought back to the last time he’d seen Brian Kinney. “He’s funny.”

“And?”

“He brings me stuff. Tha’s nice.” Gus nodded to draw home his point.

Michael wasn’t convinced Gus was telling the whole truth. “Honey, it’s okay to say what you feel. Your Daddy’s aware of his absence in your life. It’s not something he’s proud of and it’s really not his choice to NOT see you.”

“I know, Mikey, but...”

“But, what...?”

Gus turned to his side, still between Michael’s legs. He was resting his shoulder on Michael’s chest. “I don’ wanna hurt ‘im. Tha’s not being kind.”

*************************************************************

  
Brian had to cover his eyes to stem the flow of tears. He knew Gus was smart. Little did he realize that soon it would be time to step up to the plate of parental responsibility. Screw what Lindsay and Melanie wanted.

Gus was his son. And apparently if what Michel was trying to get Gus to admit to was that... yeah, Gus did miss him.

This boggled Brian’s mind. He didn’t even know he had that much influence on Gus.

That Gus cared enough not to want to hurt his feelings.

  
********************** **DVD CONTENT** *********************

“Pretend like you’re telling me, sweetie. Don’t even think about everyone else in the room.” Michael used his thumb to wipe under Gus’ watery eyes.

Gus gripped Michael’s forearm like a security blanket as he nodded his head in acceptance. “I don’ see ‘im much, anymore. I see pic-chures of him... with me. Mommy says stuff about ‘im, but...” He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’ know. I t’ought, maybe...”

Michael caressed the blushing cheeks and pulled Gus around to face him. “You think it’s something YOU did?”

Gus nodded very slowly, biting his upper lip to keep from sobbing like a baby. It didn’t take long before he crumbled into Michael’s arms.

“Oh, baby... it’s okay. You’re okay. Everything is fine. No one is upset with you.” Michael picked up Gus to sit him on his lap, facing his chest. The little legs wrapped around his waist. “You were being honest. That’s all we can ask of you. You’re such a good boy, Gus. Think about all these people in your life. That makes you very special. All that love... and not to mention the amount of gifts you get” He winced as Gus pinched him for making a *funny* during a serious moment. “Sorry,... that one just came to my mind and I ran with it.” He pressed a dozen kisses, in a row, to Gus’ temple. “So many people love you, Gus... it’s okay to feel uneasy about accepting them into your life. It will happen on your own time. No one is going to force you to feel what you don’t.”

“Mommy says I’m sub-posed to love ‘im, ‘cause he will always be my Daddy... but... sometimes... I don’ know how. If he wan’s me to.” Gus fingers bunched in Michael’s hair as he combed through the dark curls. “Can I talk about you, now?”

Michael looked stunned for a second. His moist eyes darting to whomever was behind the digital camera. “Gus... take a minute to breathe...”

“But, I’m okay...”

“Then give me a second to pick my heart back up off the floor, before you throw it down again.”

“I won’ *stomp* on it... dhis time, Mikey.”

“Yeah... I’ve heard that before.” Michael teased as he played with Gus like he was super glued to his chest. Try as he might, his super powers were no longer apparent. “Gosh darn it, Gus!! What have you done now!!??”

Gus simply giggled through his emotions, stuck between sadness and happiness. He squeezed his legs tighter about Michael, his arms doing the same. “I love you, Mikey.”

Michael stopped his games, in utter shock. “I love you, too, honey.” He tried to pat the little back hunched over on his chest. He had to hold up a hand. “Excuse me... can you give us a few minutes...”

Michael didn’t stick around for his answer.

The screen went black.

*************************************************************

The disc ended abruptly.

Brian was undone and spent by his weak, sappy emotions regarding Michael and his son. He crawled over toward Michael’s back, this time wanting to share the leftover space on Michel’s pillow, which wasn’t much.

Michael fidgeted once, startled awake, reached back to caress Brian’s stubbled cheek. “Hey, what are you doin’ up?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Brian dipped his head over Michael's spine. His nose doing one trail, while his kisses did another.

“My fault, I hope.” Michael chuckled into the pillow, half awake and asleep. He pushed back to Brian’s body laying aligned with his. “You wanna go back to bed?”

“No... here is nice...” Brian choked once, unsure if he wiped away the evidence of his foolish crying. He encircled his arms around Michael, from behind. “... here with you... anywhere is better then the bed...”

Michael frowned when he felt the wetness on his flushed skin. “Are you alright, Brian?” He tried to lift his head, but Brian wouldn’t let him. “Brian, wha-?...”

“Ssshhh... don’t move. Please.” Brian tried to control his breathing, which wasn’t helping any.

Michael’s presence was always prone to send him one way or another on the emotional spectrum.

This time it was sorrow and sadness.

“I wish...”

Michael heard the hopefulness in Brian’s voice. He was unsure of what had gone on in Brian’s head, during the quiet time he’d had alone, while Michael was snoozing. “What?”

“I wish... I’d had a Daddy...” Brian bent his head toward Michael’s ear. He heard Michael's quick intake of air. “... like you, when I was growing up.” He sniffled his tears and rested his face against Michael’s sweet smelling locks.

“Oh, Brian... don’t say that. You’re...”

“Fucked-up, I know. And you’ve shown me, if I’m not careful, I could do some major damage to my own child.”

“But that’s not...”

“Oh, but Gus IS my problem, Michael. And maybe it’s time for me to make my presence known for him in his young life, while I still can. I don’t want to be like Jack.”

“Brian...” Michael was finally able to find a weak enough moment to roll over to face Brian. “You never could.” As he cupped the heated cheeks, Michael stared in wonder at the emotional state Brian had worked himself into. “Don’t think Gus doesn’t love you. Doesn’t know that you’re there should he ever need someone.”

“You’re the one who keeps my reputation intact with him, Michael. You’re the one he wants to be most like.” Brian reached up to run the backs of his fingers down Michael’s face, soothing away the worry lines. “Teach me how to be the kind of *father* you’re turning out to be. I admire and respect your willingness to learn from mistakes in the past. Funny, how having NO father makes YOU know exactly how to be. And me with one helluva shitty father, makes me run like hell from the commitment. Gus just can’t depend on me, like everybody else knows.”

“They don’t know shit, Brian.” Michael shook his head in confusion. “Where’s this coming from? Did someone call and leave you a nasty-gram?”

“Nope. Someone sent me a precious gift to re-open my eyes. I’ll have to thank them later.” Brian sent about nipping at Michael’s neck and collarbone, moving down the muscular chest to end at the nipple.

“Much.... much... much later.”

Michel set off to prove to Brian that he was worthy of everything he had in his life, up until now.

Brian would show Michael the DVD that was on his laptop, but, right now, there were other priorities on his To-Do list. Like showing Michael how much he loved and appreciated everything he’d given him in his life, right up until this very minute.

  
**~*~*~*~*~*THE END... for real...**


End file.
